Angels and Demons
by Blaze118
Summary: A Demon with nothing to lose searches for purpose. A group of Angels with battered pasts struggle to make sense of it all. Join the Demon Lord, Cipher, and Garuda team as they face their greatest challenges in life in the familiar skies of Strangereal.
1. Life is Strange

**Angels and Demons**

 **Prologue: Life is Strange**

I remembered this one day in home room from when I was in high school. For some reason, it stuck in my mind and I kept thinking about it as I ran for my life through a gloomy forest in Estovakia while the rain poured around me. We were talking about our hopes and aspirations for the future and my teacher said that our dreams were the only driving force that compelled us to continue on with our lives so that we could be happy. However, my school was full of negative people and one of them retorted with something I would never forget. _What's the point of having dreams if they're only going to get crushed in the end?_ As pessimistic as I was at that point in my life, I would've agreed with her until I got a little bit older and wiser. But now, I was beginning to think that she was right.

 **Saturday, March 9, 2014, 1229hrs Wesson, Osea**

I thought it was rather funny for it to actually rain during a funeral because I'd seen it in so many movies and TV shows. Normally people would've held a funeral for their loved ones on a clear day, but I guess the angels thought that the death of my best friend was rather sad even though everyone knew him as 'that bastard'. But to me, he was the closest thing I had to a guardian angel. Whether I'd look up at him from hell, look down on him from heaven, or join him in either place was something that remained to be seen, but I wish he could've stuck around a little bit longer.

When the service was over, everyone said their final farewells and left while I continued to sit in the pouring rain, looking over the tombstone of Major General Nathan S. Harkin. I never thought I'd see the day that he'd be laid to rest beside his wife Isabel Lira. Buried on the other side of him was Miranda Stinson, and next to her were Antonio Castillo and his wife, Naomi Kobayashi. Seeing all five of them like this wasn't easy, especially for their last remaining family member, Amanda Castillo. She had left a while ago without me saying anything to her and I regretted it ever since.

The rain still hadn't let up after fifteen minutes and I was still sitting there looking over the five tombstones. Antonio and his wife were assassinated in their home, Miranda was murdered, Nathan was KIA (killed in action), and Isabel died from breast cancer. Life sure had a funny way of ending, and I guess that's what I was thinking about this whole time. That was until I couldn't feel the rain on me anymore. When I looked behind me, my pregnant wife was holding an umbrella over my head. She knew how bothered I was by all of this and I appreciated her for waiting for me.

"Do you still need more time?" she asked softly.

"No, I'm not going to keep you waiting any longer," I told her as I got out of my seat. "Are you okay?"

My wife nodded and I took her hand while we walked back towards our car to head home. I didn't want to spend all day in a graveyard and I now wanted to get out of my wet clothes. However, as we got closer to my car, my wife suddenly collapsed to her hands and knees while she held her belly. She was going into labor and I tried helping her back up so that I could take her to the hospital, but we wouldn't make it in time. I quickly called an ambulance and told them the situation before I helped my wife into the back seat of my car.

"She's coming! I don't think they'll make it here in time," said my wife.

I didn't know what to do at this point. My daughter was on her way and I had never delivered a baby before. Luckily, a woman who was passing by had noticed what was going on and she quickly ran over to help. She laid my wife in the back seat of my car and got her undressed so that she could deliver my child. I got in the front seat and held my wife's hand as tightly as I could while she continued to breathe heavily. It was ten minutes before she began to scream in pain.

"What's your name?" asked the woman.

"Brenda," said my wife.

"Alright, Brenda, I just need you to keep breathing. What's your name?" the woman asked me.

"Aaron," I told her.

"Alright, Aaron, do you have any clean towels or blankets in here?"

I quickly popped the trunk of my car to get the first aid kit I kept in there and got several sterilized cloths for my wife. The woman continued to talk with her and I held her hand through the entire process. Hearing my wife scream in pain like this was a first, but it ended once I saw the woman holding my daughter. Tears began to roll down my cheeks at the sight of her and I moved in to get a better look, but the woman had a worried look on her face.

"She's not breathing," she said.

My wife gasped and I felt her hand slip from mine. I quickly went over to my daughter and took her from the woman's arms so that I could hold her. No one knew what to do and I tried clearing her airway with my finger, but it didn't do anything and neither did patting her back.

"Aaron… I'm so sorry…" said the woman.

To think that my daughter would die before she could even begin her life was devastating, but I refused to believe that she'd give up that easily. However, the kind of life I led would no doubt be hard on her and it would only be a matter of time before she was drawn into it. I sat next to my wife and we both held our child's hand as we huddled closely together.

"This life you were born into is plagued with battles you must fight. You are my daughter, and this is your first battle. So fight," I whispered.

 **Friday April 2, 2014 1403hrs, Macon, Osea**

My wife was sitting alone in our back yard, looking over the city from the hill we lived on. Ever since we found out our child was stillborn, we didn't know how we were going to carry on with our lives after such a tragic day. Our child was the reason we decided to retire from the military and live normal lives, but now we didn't know what to do. Neither of us had spoken much since that day, but we didn't distance ourselves from each other. We didn't know what to talk about anymore. While she sat out there, I made her a glass of green tea and set it on the table next to her. She didn't say anything to me, but I know she appreciated it. The last thing I did was gently place my hand on her shoulder and look out over the city with her. The moment didn't last long because our doorbell rung and I went inside to answer it. When I opened the door, I saw that it was Amy Abrams and one of her body guards.

Amy was the Director of a secret international peacekeeping organization called the IOSS (International Office of Strategic Services). Their primary purpose was to counter the shadow organization called the Grey Men. This group had a secret agenda that benefited humanity's home planet, Earth, after it had been devastated by fragments of the Ulysses asteroids. Our planet, Strangereal, was devastated as well, but not as badly as Earth. Only a couple of countries were hit by the meteor fragments, but their infrastructures had been devastated. The Grey Men wanted our planet's resources to benefit Earth, but our planet has refused to aid them due to their numerous attempts to unify humanity when in reality they just wanted to dictate our lives.

My wife and I were part of a special unit within IOSS called the RSOG (Razgriz Special Operations Group). Most of the operatives didn't know it was part of IOSS, but it was an international peacekeeping initiative with Yuktobania and Osea heading it. My wife had been on maternity leave and I had just returned from Estovakia near the beginning of last month after Major General Harkin was killed. I was given some time off to recover from that mission, but having the director show up on my doorstep was a dead giveaway that I was being called back to work.

"Can I help you, Director?" I asked.

"We've had a serious development in Estovakia that requires our immediate attention," she said as she barged into my house with her body guard. The Director sat down on the sofa and I could only give her an annoyed glare. "Where's your wife? She needs to hear this too."

"You can't be serious. You want us to come back this soon after what happened?" I asked highly annoyed.

"I know the past couple months haven't exactly been easy for the both of you, but we need you."

"Get someone else to do it this time. I'm not ready to go back out there and neither is she!"

"You don't have much of a choice," said the Director and she threw a tan envelop on the coffee table. The look on her face told me that I should look at what was in there. When I did, I felt as though she was screwing with me. "You know I assign one last assignment to everyone who wishes to retire, which is why I've assigned you the simplest variation of this mission."

My assignment was to train several fighter groups in Emmeria during a year long stint. The whole point of this was to strengthen their air force in the event of an enemy attack. After my assignment was over, I was free to retire. "I feel like you know something bad is about to happen over there," I said as I glared at her.

"I know the situation for their neighbors is only getting worse, but we're optimistic now that the civil war is over. Things are on the mend right now and this assignment will end before it can become a problem," said the Director. "Look, I know your assignment in Estovakia didn't go exactly as we'd hoped and I'm sorry I couldn't have given you more information before you headed in to defuse the situation. I'm sorry you've had a rough few months and I don't want to put you through anymore grief, but this is the last assignment I need you to do before I never ask you or your wife for anything ever again." Even though I wanted to retire and live a quiet life with my wife, this new assignment would've been the perfect distraction and a chance to do something relaxing for once. The only problem now was convincing my wife to come with me, but I wasn't sure if she'd be up for it. "You and your wife have forty-eight hours to make your decision."

The Director and her bodyguard got up and left the house and I began to look over the assignment again. I had this feeling in my gut that taking this assignment would be a hell of a lot worse if I didn't. If anything, I would've accepted this assignment on my own, but I was married after all. My wife was still sitting quietly in the back yard and I could only wonder what she was thinking about at this point.

* * *

Even though I was outside during the Director's visit, I could hear everything that they were talking about. My husband had been through a lot within the past few months and I was extremely worried about him. Major General Harkin's death was especially hard on him. Adding my stillbirth to that and I began to worry even more about my husband's wellbeing. Taking this assignment in Emmeria would've been good for him because he always talked about visiting Gracemeria to complete his doctorate in archeology and it would've been a great distraction. I sat in my chair for ten more minutes before I got up to head inside of the house. My husband was sitting on the sofa in our living room and he tried hiding the assignment envelope behind his back. This was a sure sign that he was considering this assignment.

"Who was at the door?" I asked.

"Just the mail man," he shrugged.

"What did he deliver?" My husband tried thinking of a clever excuse, but he knew that I knew it wasn't any use trying to hide the envelope from me. He sighed before he handed it to me and I opened it to see what the assignment was. I quickly read the file before I looked at my husband with concern and he broke eye contact with me. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was deeply conflicted about this assignment and I assumed that it was because he was trying to take into account how I'd feel about this decision along with his personal feelings. "What do you think I should do?"

 _I want you to take me with you._ "Should we really be headed back to work this soon?" I asked sincerely.

"…it would be a nice distraction," he replied and he braced himself for my rebuttal.

"…I think so too," I said softly. As much as I didn't want to dwell on the past, we still had a responsibility to carry on. "I know it seems kind of heartless for us to continue on with our lives after all of that's happened, but we can't mope around forever."

My husband lowered his gaze and I began to think that I said something I shouldn't have. I thought he would walk away from me and head off towards his den, but he pulled me in for a hug. He embraced me tightly and it took me a second to realize that he wasn't mad. I wrapped my arms around him and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that we could continue on with our lives.

"We're going to Emmeria?" I asked to make certain of his intentions.

"We're going to Emmeria," he replied.

 **Thursday, 24, 2014 0951hrs, Fuscum Sea**

We got in contact with Director Abrams after her visit to our house in Osea and told her that I'd accept her assignment on the condition that my wife could come along as my adjutant. It wasn't something I wanted, but my wife wanted to stick with me to 'keep me sane'. I got the feeling that she just wanted to spend more time together which was fine by me because I hadn't seen a lot of her within the past few months. Anyways, the Director assigned me an F-15E Strike Eagle that I personally modified with the help of IOSS's best engineer, Ricardo Quesada. Anyone could swear that he'd be able to make a biplane go supersonic if he had the time. He gave the engines a higher thrust output and enhanced the maneuverability dramatically using weight reduction methods he developed personally.

The icing on the cake was the special armament that he was able to equip it with. Ever since few years ago, a special technology became widely known to the world that allowed for the storage of large quantities within small spaces, but it was only available to the military and certain government agencies. One of its uses was the storage of large amounts of ordinance on aircraft. The pylons on my plane would replenish missiles or bombs, depending on what the pylon was carrying, after the weapon had been fired. The pylons only held a limited supply of weapons, but it was a lot more than what they used to be capable of. Apart from that, IOSS engineers had managed to scale this technology down to the size of a wrist watch and each IOSS field operative was allowed one. It could hold up to one cubic meter of free space that would decrease depending on the total volume of the items stored in them. We called these things MSs (Magic Satchels) because they reminded us of an animation technique that we usually saw in cartoons and video games. Mine only contained my ACR rifle, custom M9, a couple of choice melee weapons, some MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), and my car keys. My wife had one as well, but I didn't know what else she kept in there other than her sidearm.

Anyways, we were approaching Gracemeria and we began sending our radio traffic to Gracemeria Air Force Base to let them know we were coming. Our instructor call sign for this assignment was Garuda 1, but it wasn't like I had a choice. My personal call sign was Talisman, which was given to me by my wife when she found out I kept one from an archeological dig I was a part of last year. The talisman in question had a female angel engraved on it, posing with a sword and shield. My wife, Charm as I liked to call her, thought it would be a good idea to bring it with me and present it to the Golden King that was known all throughout Emmeria.

The story of the Golden King dates back approximately 2,000 years. It was said that he wasn't known for his size, but for his kind and gentle nature along with the compensation of his gold suit of armor. The legends about him said that the sight of him was so intimidating that his enemies bowed before him before they ever fought. Normally I'd find stories like that hard to believe, but I've seen similar occurrences in my line of work. The Gold King was a sight that I was really looking forward too, but so was the King's Bridge that Gracemeria was famous for. And soon, I'd be able to scratch a couple more things off my bucket list and fulfill a promise I made in the past.

The view of the city was blocked by a large cloud and we couldn't see the city yet. It didn't take long for us to break through it and see the city of Gracemeria for the first time ever. It was an amazing sight. The city was vast and I couldn't see anything other than a sprawling metropolis. As much as I wanted to take in the view for a little while longer, I couldn't. ATC (Air Traffic Control) directed me to a specified vector so that I could head towards the air force base.

"Garuda 1, you are clear to land," said the Air Force Base's control tower.

I began my landing preparations and eased back down onto the ground. For the next year, we'd be stationed here to train these Emmerian pilots. We got out of our plane after I parked on the flight line and we were greeted by the crew chief in charge of my plane. He was a Technical Sergeant who looked like he didn't take shit from anyone. Unfortunately for him, neither did I.

"Welcome to Gracemeria, Sir. I was wondering when I'd get my new bird," he said.

"'Your bird', eh," I replied and the Chief mechanic gave me a smug look. "Alright, I was losing thrust in engine 2 halfway here. See what you can do with her," I said and walked off to report to the base commander's office with my wife.

When we got to his office, he told my wife to wait outside while he spoke to me alone. Even though she was just as much a part of this assignment as I was, he still ordered her to leave.

"Lt. Colonel Aaron 'Talisman' Driver; you're a member of the Razgriz Special Operation Group, originally a Marine in Osean Maritime Defense Force, and twice decorated. You've made quite a name for yourself throughout your career. I'm amazed to see someone so young to hold the rank of Lt. Colonel, no offense. You were highly requested by the Emmerian Defense Administration to help train some of our pilots to strengthen our air force. That being said, I'm expecting great things from you. You're authorized to use whatever means necessary to whip these men and women into shape," said the base commander.

"Sir, I'm aware that you're looking for results, but I've never formally trained anyone before," I said.

"I know, but you came highly recommended for the job considering that you were one of the best in your class. There is no right or wrong way for you to do this, but I trust you to at least make an impression on not just the pilots, but the rest of the base personnel as well. I'll do whatever I can to help you just as long as you don't overdo it on them."

I acknowledged the base commander and left his office while I thought hard about his words. The way he spoke to me was rather unsettling. He authorized the use of any training method that I wanted in the hopes that I would be able to drastically improve the quality of his pilots. Every air force in the world always stuck to a strict training regimen. And to allow me any training method went to show just how desperate he was for results. Already, I was beginning to feel as though I was going to be pulled back into another war, but at least this time I'd know the reason behind it. With nothing else to do and nothing to look forward too, I went to the hangars to meet up with my wife so that we could head off base and check out the house IOSS had set us up with.

* * *

I left the base commander's office while he spoke to my husband and headed off towards the hangars to check on the chief mechanic. As I made it back onto the flight line, I took a look at the surrounding area. Already this place seemed like a step up from Osea and I could see why one of my best friends had always wanted to come here.

"The crew chief didn't know what to do. He was saying he'd never seen a propulsion system like that in a Strike Eagle before."

I looked further down the flight line and noticed a group of pilots talking to each other between two of the hangars. They were Ensigns and Lieutenants and I assumed that they were going to be part of the training class. I got a little curious as to where their conversation was going and I decided to get closer to eavesdrop on them.

"Yeah, that plane belongs to Lt. Colonel Driver. Apparently, he's going to be training us for the next year."

"Well, if his adjutant is easy, then this will be too."

"Yeah, well, we're shit out of luck because I know his adjutant. It's Yamada."

"Yamada, sounds like some kind of low end car manufacture."

"Yeah, well, let me tell you about 'em. I was in the second month of my RSOG candidacy before I dropped out when we were going over hand to hand combat drills. And the squadron CO was this nasty-ass looking bird; all scarred up and mean-looking as all hell. Then one day, our new hand-to-hand instructor starts calling for anyone who'd like to go a couple rounds with him to see if anyone knew how to actually fight. Several of the other candidates decide to challenge him and they get their asses handed to them on gold platters. I'm talking fractured bones, torn ligaments, and concussions. So when the CO got wind of this, they stepped in the ring and they're just standing there like the instructor ain't shit. The instructor doesn't like that and decides to go on the offensive first. He only threw one punch before the CO put him on the ground with a broken leg and fractured wrist. After that, he kicked the instructor hard enough in the rib cage to break three bones."

"That was Yamada?"

"No, that was Major Becket."

"What the hell does that have to do with Yamada?"

"Because Yamada was Becket's instructor, and Lt. Colonel Yamada put Becket into a weeklong coma."

"It was two weeks actually," I said as I revealed myself to the group of pilots, but they all just gave me quizzical looks. "I put him in a coma for two weeks after he got tired of taking orders from a woman. Speaking of which, are we going to have a problem maintaining discipline here?" I asked and the whole lot of them snapped to attention when they noticed my rank.

"No ma'am," they all said in unison.

"Good, as you were," I said and I headed back to our plane's hangar. The crew chief was at his work bench looking over every manual he had on jet engines and it was obvious that he was frustrated. "Problem, Tech Sergeant?" I asked and he looked back at me.

"Ma'am, I'm pretty good at what I do and I've been turning wrenches ever since I was five, but I don't know what the hell you brought me today. No disrespect, ma'am, but how the hell am I supposed to work on this plane if I have no idea how I'm going to fix it?"

"What's the matter? I thought this was 'your bird'?" I asked sarcastically to which the Tech Sergeant glared at me. "You see, this was and never will be 'yours'. Once you understand that, we'll train you on how to repair and maintain her, you got that?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied and I walked away. "Lt. Colonel, how do I fix the thrust problem you two were having?"

"There never was one."

 **1659hrs, Gracemeria, Emmeria**

We arrived outside our house that we were assigned by IOSS, but it turned out to be a three bedroom house on the other side of the bay. It was a cozy looking place and the neighborhood seemed rather typical for the ideal suburban life style. Anyways, we headed inside the house and took a look around until we met back up in the kitchen. On the table was a wrapped packages address to me, and my wife didn't know what to make of it.

"You should probably open it," she said.

"It could be rigged," I protested.

"Just poke it with the broom if you're so paranoid." I gave my wife an annoyed look before I carefully picked up the package and examined it. It didn't seem like it was dangerous, so that was a plus. I carefully opened the box to see that it contained a hard cover book placed on top of a stained wooden box. There was also a folded note in there as well. "What does it say?"

 _These were the Generals two personal belongings that he left for his son in his will. I figured you deserved them more. Take care of yourself out there._

 _-Amy_

I placed the note on the table and took the book in my hands. The first page contained General Harkin's old home address written in his hand writing and I turned the page to see even more of his penmanship.

 _To my son who I loved so very much,_

 _If you're reading this, then chances are that I'm finally gone. I know I wasn't the best father to you and I know that you'll probably never forgive me for not being completely honest with you, but I tried my best. I never wanted you to hate me for any of the things I've done and everything else I've forced onto you, but it happened anyways. This is just one of the many journals that I kept with me and I tried finding the right time to tell you the real story as to why things turned out the way they did. I just hope that you understand and that you could find it in your heart to forgive me._

General Harkin never really spoke about his son for some reason. What's more I've never even seen him before, not even in a picture. I guess things must've been bad between them if they never tried making amends. In spite of this, I turned to the first journal entry out of curiosity and began to read.

 **Friday, March 22, 1995 1256hrs, Pike, Osea**

"Harkin, the Colonel wants to see you in his office. It doesn't sound good," said my friend, Eric Barlowe.

"Is it about me buzzing the tower the other day?" I asked.

"Hell if I know. Maybe your request to transfer out of here was granted."

"Yeah, well, here's hoping."

I was in the hangar tuning my F-15C for my hop tomorrow. After all of the intensive flying I put that baby through, I figured that she was due for an upgrade. The base was pretty busy today considering that the Belkans were making some pretty large advances in the northern part of Osea to reclaim their lost territory.

In 1988, Belka was suffering economic strife and allowed its eastern territory to secede in the hopes that it would relieve some of the burden it was under and the Republic of Ustio was created. To make matters even worse, our power-hungry, sack of shit Osean government took advantage of the situation and claimed some of Belka's remaining territory for its own. But by that time, Belka entered a state of economic panic and an extreme right-wing party took control of Belka's government in the hopes of sustaining power to the region. Everything looked like it had finally settled down in Belka. But when Ustio had discovered an abundance of natural resources, Belka began to invade its neighbors. Only two days had passed since war was declared, but they had gained a lot of ground.

When I heard the news, I was eager to get out there and fly some more combat missions. I had already seen a little action back on Earth during the Gulf War, but I couldn't get enough of it. I had never gotten a kill under my belt, but everyone I flew with knew I was hungry for action. This was the reason I put in for a transfer to the front lines. I was a brash and arrogant first lieutenant who had never seen the true reality of war. When the Belkan war began, Ustio had begun asking for anyone who could help aid their military and even began outsourcing jobs for fighter pilots. When I heard about this, I quickly requested to be sent to the front lines. If I wanted to see action, that was the place to be.

I reported to the base commander's office and presented myself. The base commander wasn't too thrilled to see me because I had a habit of pissing people off because I felt like they didn't know what it was like for a maverick like me to be grounded as often as I was.

"Reporting as ordered, sir," I said in a bored tone as I locked eyes with my superior as he sat in his desk.

"Lieutenant, you're making it a habit of pissing people off to get you point across," he said.

"I'm glad people are starting to notice."

"I'm glad too, because I now have all I need to kick your sorry ass out of the military," said the base commander.

"Wait, what?!" I exclaimed in disbelief.

"I don't see why you're surprised," he replied as he began to look over my file. "Giving alcohol to under-aged Marines, aiding and abetting an Airman trying to avoid an NJP (Non-Judicial Punishment), flying while intoxicated, fraternization with an NCO-"

"That charge was bullshit! Perrault sent me and Sergeant Lira to the armory under orders from Major Strauss and he admitted that he never told Perrault to relay any orders like that," I protested.

"Nevertheless, you still abandoned your post. Add all of the stunts you've pulled while you were out on hop and you've got yourself quite the record for a reckless son-of-a-bitch who endangers the lives of his comrades. I would've given you more NJPs, but it seems that the first two weren't enough, so what other course of action should I take?" asked the base commander.

Anyone in my position would've tried begging for another chance, but we both knew that I was going to screw up again if I was given the chance to redeem myself. But seeing as how sick he was of having me around, I knew I could get him to give me what I wanted. However, I knew that I was taking a big risk if I was going to have the best chance of keeping my wings.

"You could give me what I want and send me to the front lines," I shrugged.

"Give me one good reason as to why in the hell I would do that."

"Sir, the Belkans have already taken over Wesson within the span of a few days due to the fact that no one has been able to stand against the Belkan Air Force and they're only going to gain more ground with each passing day. If they managed to penetrate this far into Osea, imagine how far they've gotten into Ustio by now."

"What's your point, Lieutenant?"

"My point is that once the Belkan's gain control of Ustio's resources, they'll be no stopping them from getting further inside Osea. They need pilots, sir, and I'm itching to see some action."

"But what's to stop me from just discharging you right now?"

"I'll still be alive and I'll still be here in the city so that I can harass you. If you sent me to the frontlines, let's say Ustio for example, I have a high chance of dying in combat and you'll never have to see me again. It's a win-win for both of us, sir. I know you can't stand me, so why not just grant me my death wish?"

The base commander just glared at me for a good few seconds before he gave me an evil grin and relented to my request. He approved my transfer to Ustio and I would be flying as a mercenary for Ustio's Air Force. When I was dismissed, I headed off base and drove to see a very good friend of mine. Her name was Isabel Lira and we both had a history together. When I told her that I was headed off to the frontlines, she wasn't too thrilled.

"Why would you request a transfer to the western front?"

"Come on, Lily, this is me we're talking about," I told her.

"They aren't pushovers like some of the other countries you've fought, Nate. These are highly skilled soldiers and pilots."

"Why do you even care so much about where I go? Am I your only friend or is there something that you want to say but can't because you're married?"

 _I didn't know why Lily was so mad at me. I thought she'd be excited to hear that I was finally getting what I wanted. She and I dated while we were in high school because she loved the idea of a bad boy like me trying to take on the world. The only reason as to why I became a Marine was because I figured that it would be my stepping stone to a path towards greatness. The feeling of a guy like me in his prime with nothing to lose was part of what drove me towards the idea of glory. Everyone except for my new wife, Elizabeth, pretty much hated my guts including Barlowe, but he wouldn't admit it until much later._

"Just go," she said and she slammed the door in my face.

I shrugged off her words and began to head back to my car when a school bus rolled up at the end of the drive way. When the door opened, a group of kids got off. I only knew two of them out of the five that were there. One of them was Lily's oldest daughter, Adrian, and the other was her oldest son, Antonio. Adrian never really talked to me all that much and I got the feeling that she hated me for some reason. But Antonio, or Kid as I liked to call him, loved it when I came by to visit. However, when he got off the bus, he looked like his dog had just died.

"Hey, Kid, you okay?" I asked him while his sister brushed past me. Kid could only shake his head at me and avoid making eye contact. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked and he held up a tan envelop to me. As soon as I saw it, I knew that it was his report card.

"I got all Cs, Ds, and Fs," he muttered and he sank down to the ground.

Kid wasn't lying when he told me about his grades and I knew that his dad was going to rain hell down on him. His dad, Frank, wasn't exactly the most easy going guy I knew which was why I worried about Kid a lot. Kid told me about this time he got beat for failing to find a hair brush to comb his medium regulation haircut his dad forced on him. If anything, I felt bad for him because I wouldn't have wanted a father like his.

"It says you haven't been doing your homework. Why not," I asked.

"Because I don't understand it," he muttered. "Every time I ask my dad for help, he always tells me that he's busy when he's playing on his computer and mom is always busy making dinner and cleaning. Adrian keeps teasing me and calling me stupid because I can't do anything right."

 _The more Kid told me about his problems, the more I just wanted to slap some sense into everyone. It wasn't just because I felt sorry for him, but it was also because I saw a lot of myself in him. Having the whole world reject you wasn't something any child should have to deal with. Otherwise they'd turn out like I did; doing anything they wanted because they knew that everyone already didn't give a rat's ass about them. Seeing Kid cry in the driveway was what motivated me to make him a promise._

"Hey now, don't cry," I told Kid as I sat down next to him. "Everything's going to be alright."

"No it's not. Dad's going to beat me and I'm going to get grounded again," he cried.

"Being grounded isn't all that bad. It gives you a lot of time to think. It's kinda like prison for kids, minus a lot of the bad stuff."

 _Why did I ever tell him that?_

"What kind of bad stuff?"

"That's not important. Anyways, whenever I got grounded when I was a kid, I would read a lot. Airplane books were my favorite," I told him.

"Like Sky Kid?" he asked referring to the children's book

"Not exactly," I said rubbing the back of my neck and I pulled out a book I kept in my flight suit. "Here, I want you to have this. It's my favorite book."

"Sam-uh-rah-eye… Samurai, what's it about?" asked Kid as he took the book.

"It's about the most famous Japanese fighter pilot of World War II. It might be a little difficult for you to read, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. Read it while you're grounded and you might learn something. Anyways, Kid, I have to go. Keep your head up and maybe one day you'll become a better pilot than me," I said and I headed back to my car.

Kid just looked at me in confusion as I drove off. Seeing my best friend's son in a constant state of misery really bothered me. Not only did it hit me on a personal level, but I knew that anyone in their right mind would say something regarding his upbringing. When I was growing up, I never had a real father. Mom raised me by herself until I was eight and then she gave me to an orphanage. I didn't mind it because she kept jumping from one guy to the next, each one even worse than the last. Aside from that, growing up in Texas until I was old enough to enlist in the military wasn't so bad. I made the best of it and earned money playing the guitar at a local pub. Most of the regulars were Mexican and they really enjoyed the way I played. Having a fondness for Latino culture really benefitted me in the long run in becoming quite the ladies' man.

 _Joining the military to find adventure and experience the thrill of war was the only way to take my mind off of everything. Of all the women I've become involved with, Lily was the one I never really got over. Frank didn't deserve a woman like her. Her concern for me as I went off to Ustio was one of the main things that drove me to come back alive. I don't know what awaited me out there in the hostile skies of Ustio, but I get this feeling that it's going to be harder than I thought. Only time will tell if I'm right or not._

 **Thursday, July 30, 2015 1720hrs, Gracemeria, Emmeria**

Seeing that I was left with the Generals personal journal felt like hitting the jackpot in a way. Out of all the time that I've l known him, he never spoke much about himself. No one really knew anything about who he really was. I set his journal down and took the wooden box out and set it on the table. When I opened it, I saw that it was General Harkin's custom M1911. It had an under barrel rail for his gun mounted flashlight and a threaded barrel for his suppressor. General Harkin always carried it with him and he never let anyone else touch it, but now it was in my possession.

"They gave you his gun?" my wife asked and I nodded. "Hmm, I wonder why he was always so protective of it."

"Me too, but I get the feeling I'll find out soon enough," I said referring to his journal. "Anyways, are you hungry?"

My wife nodded and I put the General's things in my nightstand. We ordered pizza for dinner and spent the rest of the night lying in a hammock in the backyard, cuddled up together while we gazed at the stars. This was the most intimate we've gotten since the beginning of the month, but I wasn't complaining.

"How do you feel now that we're here on this assignment?" I asked my wife.

"I feel kind of relieved to be honest," she said softly and I looked at her. "After the stillbirth, the General's death, and you getting shot down in Estovakia, I'm just glad that you haven't let it get to you as much as I thought it would."

"…yeah, I know what you mean. But you don't need to worry about me for now. I'll let you know if the stress starts to add up," I said my wife's hold on me tightened.

My wife was the only person I had left in my life whom I could tell anything too. She and I had been through hell together countless times and neither of us saw that changing in the future. However, we weren't too excited about training the Emmerian pilots over the weekend.


	2. First Impressions

**Chapter 1 – First Impressions**

 **Saturday, August 2, 2014 0600hrs, Gracemeria, Emmeria**

"Attention!" shouted my wife as I walked into the hangar.

Every pilot and ground crew member immediately snapped to attention. Over the weekend, a memo was sent out to everyone here that they were to report in their 'Charlie' Service Uniforms. I was going to inspect each member of the unit just to see if they could follow simple instructions, but I didn't tell them that. My wife and I formally introduced ourselves to everyone and explained our job while we were here on this base. Once that was over, we began to walk through the formation and inspect everyone. Everything looked good until I came across a Sgt. Major who didn't have his medals pinned on his chest.

He looked like a guy who had seen his share of war. The hardened look in his eye was a dead giveaway because I had seen it in several other people during my military career. What's more, I could already tell that this guy was going to try and prove a point, but that remained to be seen.

"Lt. Colonel Yamada, everyone in this unit did get the memo about today's uniform inspection, correct?" I asked my wife.

"Yes, they did, otherwise the Sgt. Major here wouldn't have shown up in his Service Uniform."

"I thought so," I muttered. "Sgt. Major, you are not in proper uniform. Now, I don't care if you have to drive all the way back to your house, but I don't want to see you here until you have every one of your medals pinned on your chest. Do you understand me?" I said sternly, but the Sgt. Major just glared at me before he left the hangar.

While we waited for him to come back, I continued my inspection of the rest of the unit and offered critiques here and there. It had only been ten minutes since the Sgt. Major left when I began to hear laughter coming from the front of the formation. My wife and I made our way back to the front only to see the Sgt. Major in his birthday suit with a single medal hanging around his neck. It was the Emmerian Platinum Star and was the highest honor one could achieve within the Emmerian Military. Normally I'd have to salute him to show him the respect he deserved, but I wasn't one to salute stupidity.

"Lt. Colonel Yamada, what do you make of this picture?" I asked my wife.

"I think he's trying to say that his is bigger than yours," she replied.

"If that were the case, would you agree?"

"Nope," she said bluntly.

"I thought so," I muttered. I dug into my pocket and flashed an ISAF Gold Cross and Osean Gold Wing to the Sgt. Major. Both of my medals were the highest honors one could achieve within ISAF and the OADF and the Sgt. Major knew this by the look of shock on his face. It was the last look he gave me before I ran my fist into his gut and axe kicked him in the back of his neck when he bent over. The Sgt. Major was out cold and everyone, except for my wife, just gawked in concern. When I looked back at them, they all tensed up to the point where they looked even more like statues. "Well, everyone, you've all passed my inspection except for the Sgt. Major here. And because of this, I feel that the unit's cohesion is somewhat lacking. Lt. Colonel Yamada, how do you suggest we fix that?"

My wife stepped in front of the unit and placed her hand on her chin as she thought of a good punishment for everyone. They all looked rather nervous about what she was thinking, but I knew that she'd get more joy out of it than they would.

"I've yet to see the true beauty of your country. That being said, you all will have the honor of showing me around the area. We're going for a little hike, people," said my wife and we could almost hear a collective groan from the unit.

"Ma'am, what about the Sgt. Major?" asked one of the ground crew.

"Just leave him there, now fall out!" ordered my wife.

Everyone got changed into a set of combat utilities along with a pack that contained everything the average grunt would carry as well as an assault rifle. My wife and I were dressed in our field uniforms that weren't exactly standard issue. Mine consisted of khaki BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) pants, a black short-sleeved compression shirt, combat boots, hard knuckled gloves, plate carrier, thigh holster, and ballistic helmet. My wife had pretty much the same attire, but she substituted her helmet for a 'tactical' baseball cap and ballistic goggles. The others in the unit gave us looks like we were a couple of idiots because we weren't dressed like them, but that didn't stop us from completing our hike. We ventured off to the west of the base for a few miles before we circled back around and followed the coast to head back to the airfield. For me and my wife, it was rather relaxing except for the part where we cut through a path in the woods. It caused me to have a flashback to when I was shot down in Estovakia, trying to defuse an escalating situation over there a couple months ago. My wife noticed how I acted during that part of the hike, but she didn't say anything until we got to the beach and began walking beside me.

"You okay?" she asked sincerely.

"I just can't get that day out of my head… You read the reports and saw everything that happened in the CIC, right?" I asked and she nodded. "Do you think it was my fault that Harkin died?"

My wife stopped dead in her tracks and the rest of the unit did as well. I know she wouldn't say that there was nothing anybody could've done, but I would've found that really hard to believe. If I hadn't been shot down, then the General wouldn't have come to get me even though a man in his position wouldn't ever do anything like that. My wife ordered the unit to continue on towards the base while she pulled me aside.

"Anyone could be at fault. The Director, the loyalist, the ultranationalists, or even the guy who shot you down could be blamed, but there is no way that it's your fault. You did everything you could to save him and I know he wouldn't blame you. As long as you're alive, I know he thinks it was worth it," she said.

"How can you be so sure though?" I asked.

"Why else would he personally come for you?" she said and I couldn't help but smirk at her. She returned the smile before she tapped my butt and walked off to join the others. I stood there for a few more seconds to gaze out towards the ocean's horizon. Even though I missed the sunrise, seeing it reminded me that morning always comes.

When we got back to the base, everyone fell into formation in the hangar we originally gathered in. The Sgt. Major was still lying on the ground and I ordered a couple of people to get some water to dump on him. When they did, he was slow to get back up and everyone began to laugh at him due to his confused reaction. After dismissing him, much to his protest, I turned to address the rest of the unit.

"Today was the only easy day I will have with you all. Starting on Monday, the real work begins. Again, we are here to improve your skills as pilots and ground crews. You don't have to like me or Lt. Colonel Yamada, but you will follow our orders to the letter, understood?" I asked.

"Aye, sir!" everyone shouted in unison.

"Good, return your gear to supply before you head off base. Get some rest over the weekend, you're gonna need it. Dismissed," I said and everyone headed off to the supply depot.

My wife and I headed towards the locker rooms to get changed out of our combat gear. It was times like this that I was glad I had an MS so that way I wasn't always carrying around a heavy bag. _Efficiency is just clever laziness._ I got changed and headed out to my car where I met my beautiful wife. The sight of her in her white sundress was a very refreshing sight in my eyes. Seeing her standing there, looking at me with a warm smile was all I needed to convince myself that everything was going to be alright. The image of her was so beautiful that I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of her as she tried to hide her face behind her dark brown hair, but it only made the picture turn out even better.

We both got in my car and drove into the city so that we could wander around the place and explore the beautiful city of Gracemeria. There were cherry blossom trees everywhere, but they weren't in bloom. Even so, they reminded us of our wedding. We ended up going to a park to see a bunch of people enjoying their day here. The weather was wonderful and the atmosphere was welcoming. That was until we came across a large crowd of people who turned out to be almost everyone in the unit from this morning. We were met by, what felt like, a collective glare of resent, but it soon turned into gossip when they saw us holding hands. We both wanted to get out of here because I knew we probably wouldn't be welcome within this group.

"Hey, Colonel," shouted someone behind us. We turned around to see that it was the base commander walking with his wife and teenage daughter. "I'm surprised to see you both here. Is this your wife?"

"Yes, sir, this is my wife, Lt. Colonel Brenda Yamada," I said and my wife shook his hand.

"Wow, I didn't expect you to be so lovely. Anyways, I don't feel so bad now that they didn't tell you about the squadron's barbeque," said the base commander.

"Uh, yeah, we, uh, we just came by to say hello, but we've got plans for today," said my wife.

"Oh, don't be like that. Just have a beer and relax," he urged.

Normally we wouldn't have argued, but we figured that one drink wouldn't hurt. We ended up going over to a cooler and grabbed a soda and began to head over to a nearby tree to isolate ourselves from everyone here. However, one of the guys from the squadron approached us.

"Hey, Colonel, I don't think I've properly introduced myself. Lieutenant Michael Herman, it's a pleasure to finally meet you both," he said and we shook his hand. "I've gotta say, I was wondering what you'd have us do this morning, but was it really necessary for you to do all that to the Sgt. Major?"

"I… uh…" I stammered.

"He hates stupid people. All the Sgt. Major had to do was follow his directions the first time and that whole mess could've been avoided," said my wife. "I could've thought of a better punishment for everyone, but I decided to go easy on you today."

"A longer hike would've really sucked. But if that's the worst you could do, then we really don't have anything to worry about," chuckled Lieutenant Herman.

"Believe me, Lieutenant, it could've been a lot worse," I told him.

"Oh, well, I'll try not to get on your bad side. Anyways, where were you station before here?"

"We were both stationed at Fort Cornwall in Osea as part of the RSOG unit. This is my second deployment within three months, but I'm not really complaining," I said.

"Really, where was your last deployment?"

"That's classified, but this one seems more lax."

"I see. What about you, Colonel Yamada? Where was your last deployment?"

"Belka, I really don't like talking about it though," said my wife.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Lieutenant Herman and he paused for a moment. "You two seem to be attached at the hip. Are you both that close as a crew?"

"No, we're actually married."

"Wow, I didn't know that. How long have you been together?"

"Four years?" I asked my wife.

"Four and a half," she clarified.

"Really, I didn't expect you two to be married that long. I mean you both look like you're in your early twenties and you're both pretty high in rank. Do you have any kids?" asked the Captain to which my wife lowered her head.

"…we've tried, but it hasn't been easy," I said as I rubbed the back of my neck.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said the Captain and he stood there like he was uncomfortable.

"Are you here by yourself?" I asked trying to change the subject.

"No, my wife and daughter are over there with the other wives and kids. My wife, Melissa, is the blonde and my daughter, Matilda is the younger blonde over there. We've been here for about nine years now."

"You must really love this city, huh?"

"Yeah, there's always something going on here and its beautiful here year round. I tell you, sir, you couldn't have landed a better assignment than training us here."

"Were there any points of interest that you'd recommend?"

"Well, there's the castle of the Golden King, the King's Bridge, city walk, the amusement park, the mall, the beach, and the water front. There are plenty of other things to do around here, but it'd take a while to list all of it."

We talked for a little more before the Lieutenant said his farewell and left to join the others from the unit. My wife and I stuck around for a little longer before we decided to leave and walk around the city for a while. True to Lieutenant Herman's word, there was a lot to do here. We only got to see part of the Golden King's castle before we left and went wine tasting until my wife got loaded. I ended up driving us back to our house at around 2200hrs and carried her on my back while she giggled uncontrollably.

"Giddy-up, take me to my castle!" she slurred/giggled.

"We have arrived, milady! I shall summon thou butler to prepare thee for thy slumber!" I boasted.

We both continued to laugh at the charade and I set my wife down on the bed so that I could take off her shoes and put her to sleep. She didn't struggle at all and she quickly fell asleep right then and there. After that, I headed into the living room and sat in my recliner to relax on my own for a bit, but I also took the time to read another passage from General Harkin's journal.

 _I left for Ustio early this morning and damn near blew my engines trying to arrive as early as I could at my new post. I said my goodbyes to the few people I knew, but they all seemed like I was just going to the grocery store instead of a battlefield._

 **Wednesday, March 29, 1995 1434hrs, Valais Air Base, Ustio**

Even though almost nobody was thrilled about my assignment, I was the happiest man alive now that I was sent off to the war's eastern front. What made this deal even greater was that I was even able to take my assigned F-15C with me. She wasn't as maneuverable as I would've liked, but her speed and stability at slow speeds more than made up for it. On top of that, I was now allowed to give her a custom paint job now that I was acting as a mercenary pilot for Ustio. I kept the Grey paint scheme and added a hint of blue to the wings, elevators, and vertical stabilizers just for show.

I landed half an hour earlier than I was expected and I had to fight with air traffic control over the radio, telling them that I was an incoming ally. Now that I was on the ground, I couldn't wait to wrap my hands around the neck of the asshole who almost gave the order to shoot me down. The first thing I was met with was a security team asking for my papers while they held me at gunpoint. Once everything checked out, I spat at the feet of the head security officer and headed off to report to the base commander's office. His name was General Finn and he seemed mellower than the bastard at Pike. That was until he began speaking.

"Your former commander tells me that you're pretty arrogant for a young officer, Lt. Harkin. He also made it very clear to me that you like to play by your own rules. Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of indulging your carefree attitude. If you fuck up even once, you'll be sent back to Osea where you'll be at the mercy of your former commander. God only knows what he'd do to you if he sees you again," said General Finn.

"Aye, sir," I muttered and he dismissed me.

I headed out of the building and headed off to the barracks so that I could get set up in my quarters. It was a dark room with only a little window to let in the natural light. It looked like a prison cell than anything else even though I had a desk with a lamp and a simple bathroom. I unpacked my things so that I could explore the base. The first place I went was the hangar so that the grease monkeys didn't mess up my plane. The whole base was bustling as air crews and other base personnel were working to prepare for something big. It wasn't until an announcement came over the intercom that I noticed there weren't any other planes in the hangars or on the flight line. Damage control was ordered to stand by and I looked out towards the horizon to see a black smoke trail approaching the base.

The trail continued to get closer and soon I was able to see that it was coming from an F-16 with an F-15 following closely behind. The Falcon pilot was in serious trouble by how quickly he was coming in. He was losing altitude too fast. Everyone knew that he wasn't going to make it and I began to wonder why the pilot didn't just bail out over the base. When the F-16's wheels hit the tarmac, they collapsed after a couple seconds and it veered off to the left of the runway where it began to roll on its side. The wings, elevators, and vertical stabilizer tore off and the fuel tanks ignited. It wasn't long after that the F-16 came to a stop and finally blew up, killing the pilot.

No one really said anything and damage control wasn't in any rush to put out the fire. They were mostly concerned about clearing the runway so that the other plane could land. When it did, the pilot taxied off the runway and parked on the flight line close by me. The pilot got out and took off his flight helmet to reveal himself. He didn't look like much with his slim build, brown messy hair, and beady eyes. I was expecting him to look bummed out since his ally had just died, but he really seemed like he wasn't bothered by it. He just shrugged it off like it was nothing and headed my way.

"You the new guy?" he asked and I nodded. "Welcome to Galm team."

The guy walked past me and headed off to the locker room to put away his flight gear. I asked one of the grease monkeys what that guy's deal was and she told me all she could. His name was Larry Foulke and he was from Belka. His call sign was Solo Wing Pixy, or Pixy for short, and the story behind his name came from when he returned to base with only one wing. This was the reason he painted only one of his plane's wings red. Other than that, he was a complete enigma. Anyways, the girl who told me all of this was a woman named Lauren Settle and she had it going on.

 _I would've been able to get her into bed within a matter of minutes, but I was trying to change my ways since I was married. Before then, I had a habit of trying to screw anything with lady parts. It was still difficult for me to resist my urges at times and that mechanic sure made it hard, if you know what I mean._

"And you are?" she asked me.

"First Lieutenant Nathan S. Harkin," I told her as I bowed.

"Yeah, okay, welcome to the 6th Air Division. Where's your bird?"

"She's out there on the flight line. I'd be happy to take you for a ride sometime," I said in an attempt to keep the sexual puns going, but all Settle did was brush past me and head over to my plane. She stood off to the side of it, staring at it like she wasn't impressed. But then again, she was a plane mechanic who'd probably seen her fair share of aircraft. After about a minute of just looking at it, Settle cocked her head towards me in a condescending manner and just looked at me like I was an idiot.

"I'll have Galm team's emblem on her before tomorrow morning," she sighed.

"Just think of me while you work on her," I winked to which she began glaring at me.

"Just so you know, Harkin-"

"Lieutenant Harkin," I interrupted.

"Not out here it ain't," she retorted which shocked the hell out of me. "You and every other pilot here are nothing more than mercenaries hired to help the Ustian government win this war. We don't operate by rank here. If you want to gain somebody's respect, you earn it. But as of right now, you're no one special. We've heard a lot of rumors about you from some very reliable sources and none of them are any good. I'd sleep with one eye open if I were you."

I was at a loss for words with how this little shit just spoke to me. If I wasn't such a 'gentleman', I would've back handed her so that she knew that I didn't take shit from anyone. But seeing how I was already on thin ice, I couldn't do anything to piss off the brass.

 _The atmosphere around Valais was way different than what I was used to. There really wasn't any chain of command to which anyone answered to in most cases, but there was still a way to maintain discipline over everyone. This culture shock didn't disturb me as much as the unit I was assigned to. As of that day I was now part of the 6_ _th_ _Air Division, 66_ _th_ _Air Force Unit of the Ustio Air Force. Having anything to do with the number 666 just made me reflect on how much of a curse my life was. Even so, going to Ustio to fight in someone else's war was my choice. I couldn't blame anyone other than myself if things didn't turn out how I thought they would._

 **Monday, October 6, 2014 0951hrs Gracemeria, Emmeria**

All pilots on the base were doing full body workouts on the field between the primary and secondary runway while my wife drilled the ground crews in prepping all available fighters in the event of an emergency launch. She kept giving me sour looks because of the prank I pulled on her over the weekend. She was trying to fight a smile because she knew I got her good, but I felt bad for her group. She was taking out her grumpiness on them, but it would yield results in the end. My group was already exhausted from the nonstop drills we kept putting them through. I could tell by the looks on their faces that they were wondering what the hell this had to do with our training plan and it wasn't long before one of them said something.

"Lt. Colonel Driver, what the hell does this have to do with our flight training?" asked a young Junior Lieutenant.

"Bicycle kicks, go," I ordered and everyone except for that Junior Lieutenant began doing the exercise.

"Colonel, we've been working our asses off for the past couple months with these drills and we haven't even got any flight hours in. What does this have to do with flight training?!" he asked again and a handful of people paused to see what was going on.

I could tell by the mood that no one was going to move unless they were told about what the point was of this whole PT (Physical Training) session and I figured that I should deal with it. I blew my whistle as loud and as long as I could to get my wife's attention. When she looked at me, I motioned for her to come over. She told the ground crews to stop the rearming of all aircraft and strip them of all weapons and await further orders. When my wife finally arrived, I gave her the rundown of what every pilot was thinking to which a familiar evil grin appeared on her face. She knew what I was thinking.

"You think that all of this is just pointless?" I asked and everyone nodded. "Well, if that's how you all feel, I guess me and Lt. Colonel Yamada should do something about that. You all have exactly five minutes to get your flight gear and report back onto the flight line. We're going for a hop. If you're even a second late, we're gonna be out here all day." A good number of pilots got up and ran towards the locker rooms while a couple others didn't bother moving.

"I guess that means you all want to go to bed sore," said my wife as she cracked her knuckles.

The remaining pilots got up and dashed for the locker rooms as well. Once they were out of sight, my wife turned to stick her tongue out at me and I retaliated by tapping the tip of her nose with my finger. My wife was the first to laugh before we headed off to get our flight gear. It only took us less than two minutes to get ready while every other pilot came out of the locker room scrambling to get on the flight line before the time limit was up. Having to change out of their PT gear only added to the pressure. The pilots were tripping over themselves trying to get changed and the ground crews were giggling at them. Nevertheless, they were all in formation by the end of the time limit.

"Attention!" shouted my wife and every pilot snapped to attention. All of them looked like a mess with their gear all over the place and some of them were only half dressed in any clothing or gear.

"Congratulations ladies and gentlemen, you've managed to beat my time limit. However, you failed my little pop quiz. Lesson number one for today, it helps to question orders sometimes and I don't mean questioning them like the Junior Lieutenant did. Lieutenant Herman!" I shouted.

"Yes, sir!" he responded.

"Can you recite my orders?"

"We had five minutes to get dressed in our flight gear for a hop, sir."

"Lt. Colonel Yamada, is that correct?"

"No, it is not," replied my wife and everyone looked at us like we were a couple of idiots.

"Indeed you are correct. My words were that you had five minutes to _get_ you flight gear for a hop. I did not tell you to get changed into them. Paying attention to detail is important in our line of work. In my case, it can lead to ultimate victory or ultimate defeat. How well orders are followed depends on how well they are given. Sure, I could've worded my orders differently, but sometimes commanders don't have the time to be specific," I said. "Ground crews, I want all planes fueled up and equipped with all the proper equipment for a training hop. Get moving people. The rest of you, get dressed in your flight gear and get to your planes so you can do your preflight checks. Because when I give the order to launch, you're going to be in for the ride of your lives."

The next thing they knew, we were going well over Mach 1.5, fifty miles northwest of Gracemeria. My wife was having the time of her life as my WSO (Weapon Systems Operator) because she couldn't stop giggling to herself now that she saw herself as my 'true wife'. This wasn't to say that everyone was able to keep up with my flying. The deal I made with them was that they had to tag me out in a simulated dogfight before I downed half of them. If they couldn't shoot me down, they were going to do laps around the runway with their deployed parachutes. What made this even better was that the forecast was said to be windy tomorrow. We began the exercise at thirty thousand feet and I ceased all communication with the squadron so that they could formulate some kind of strategy to shoot me down. To my utter disappointment, they were proving to be much disorganized.

They all dove on us from five thousand feet above us and I had to weave through their formation like crazy. It wasn't long before a trail of F-15s, F-16s, and F-18s formed up behind us in an attempt to shoot us down. This whole situation was a total let down and I quickly became bored with this flight. As the others continued to follow, I quickly went through my F-15's strengths and weaknesses. My bird was definitely faster than the F-16s and F-18s, but it wasn't as maneuverable as them. Given the attitude among these pilots, I could tell that my wife and I would be able to outfly them. My biggest threats as of now were the F-15s and I knew that I had to deal with them first.

I gunned my engines and flew as fast as I could away from the others. As expected the other F-15 pilots were able to keep pace, but I was able to throw off their aim with no problems. My wife told me that there were six F-15 behind me as I continued to throw my Eagle all over the sky. The other planes were too far back to lend any aid which was what made me decide to make my move.

I banked sharply to the left and my attackers did the same. When they were all back in trail, I pulled a sharp right bank and pulled my airbrake to bleed off a ton of speed. The others couldn't mimic my maneuver quickly enough and they all took their turns too wide. I quickly reversed my turn into them which allowed me to line up a split second deflection shot on the trailing aircraft. He was tagged out and I was able to line up another Eagle before the remaining four scattered. My wife kept her eye on two of them while I concentrated on the other pair. One of them went into climbing left turn while the other peeled away into a climbing right turn.

"Talisman, the rest of the group is going to be on top of us soon," my wife warned.

I peeled off from my attack run and I dove away from the approaching formation to gain some more breathing room. The Eagles were able to keep pace and the rest of the squadron was still playing catch up. The F-15s' tried going for a missile lock, but my wife was able to scramble their locks with the modified ECM pod we requested to be fitted to our plane. When we were far enough away from them, I turned back towards them to come at them from head on. The remaining Eagles were in a finger four formation and they still couldn't get a lock on us. That didn't stop my wife from getting hers and I pressed the missile launch button to tag out another Eagle before I flew by the formation.

We continued to dance around the Emmerian pilots until all F-15s were out of action. Their losses were contributed to careless mistakes such as bleeding too much speed, climbing to engage an opponent with greater altitude, and poor timing in their maneuvering. Once they were dealt with, the formation of eight F-18s were next on the chopping block. They had seen what had happened to their allies and I figured that they'd have a plan by now. However, as I approached them the F-18 formation, they all scattered in different directions. No one held any kind of formation what so ever and I thought that this had to have been some kind of trap.

I singled out one of the closest F-18s I could find. He was flying away from me and I dove on him without thinking about it. This proved to be a rather careless mistake because two F-18 latched onto my tail and gave chase. I pulled out of my dive and extended away from my two attackers with ease, but my wife informed me that we weren't out of the woods yet. When I took a look above us, I saw that the remaining F-18s had formed a Lufbery circle above us. We couldn't run in any direction without them diving on us and getting a shot. However, I was counting on them to do something like this.

Normally this sort of tactic would've worked if I didn't have an energy advantage. But seeing how we were still over thirty thousand feet in the air, I didn't see anything to worry about. When the other three F-18s rejoined their allies, I rolled over into a near vertical dive at over Mach 3. It was when I pulled out of my dive that I realized that I had made another mistake. Ahead of me were the eight other F-16s that I had forgotten about. If this had been an actual combat situation, I would've cut through the formation so that the turbulence generated by my plane would've destabilized their aircraft, but these were my allies and I couldn't put their lives at risk. All I could do was roll up and over them to avoid them and I was now in a forty-five degree climb away from the Falcons' formation. None of them could keep up and I turned back to re-engage them once we were far enough away.

I came at the formation of eight F-16s at a forty-five degree dive so that they had to turn to engage me. But before I flew past them, I noticed that one of the F-16 broke off from the rest of the formation to zoom climb above them. I would've turned to go after him, but I noticed that he wasn't climbing after me and the F-18s had returned and formed another Lufbery circle at my altitude. To make my situation even direr, the F-16s had dispersed to cover my six. They had all boxed me in and I had one chance to turn the tables on them. I flew towards the F-18s and singled out the one I was going to attack once I made my run.

The way I attacked Lufbery formation was by fly tangent to it so that I didn't lose speed or expose my six for very long once I made my attack. I hit the after burners and flew towards the circle. The Hornet I targeted was tagged out and I continued to speed away. The F-16s were still coming towards me while the F-18s maintained their formation. None of them would be able to get me if I went for another attack run on the Hornets, so I doubled back and made another pass, taking down another Hornet in the process. Everyone was still in disarray after my second run and I circled back for another.

"Talisman, two o' clock high!" exclaimed my wife.

I looked in the direction she called out and saw a lone F-16 diving out of the sun. Evading him would've been easy, however, doing so would rob me of my speed and that was the only thing that was keeping me out of danger. The other F-16s were spread out enough to block my escape and the F-18s could bust out of their formation to give chase if I slowed down for anything. I felt myself hesitating because I didn't know what I was going to do. The stress of my current situation reminded me of when I was shot down and the flashbacks began pouring through my mind. My breathing became heavy and my wife knew that something was wrong.

"Antonio," she whispered.

I snapped out of my stupor and quickly ran through all my options. The chances of us getting out of here were slim, but I was worried about my wife. She had experience flying combat aircraft before, but I had been doing it longer than she has. My flying style was the product of countless flight hours and training with a couple of the world's top aces, and with it came superhuman endurance. I could dogfight forever if I had to, but now I'd be able to test that claim.

"Hang on, Charm, this is going to be one hell of a ride," I warned.

I pulled the airbrake, cut the throttle, and pulled into a sharp bank to the right so that I could avoid the diving F-16, but another was able to swing behind me and keep pace while I tried to shake him off. A steep dive towards the ground would've been enough for me to get out of here, but I wasn't high enough to gain enough speed to get out of range. I reversed into a tight left turn as I waited for the F-16 to get his gun on me. When I saw the belly of his plane, I snapped the stick over to the right and applied bottom rudder to roll under the F-16. I didn't have enough time to line him up for a shot and I peeled away into a climbing left turn. Several F-18s broke out of their formation and flew towards me as fast as they could and I turned to come head one with one of them. The Hornet pilot peeled away to avoid making a head on attack and I gave my engines all the power I could. The other F-18s couldn't line up a shot either and I took this opportunity to pull into another climbing right turn.

A group of F-16s were still coming after me and the only way to shake them was to level out and pull a high G turn. I could hear my wife grunting as she struggled to endure the maneuver and I was trying to minimize my violent maneuvering so that I didn't put too much strain on her. When I saw that the F-16s couldn't maintain the turn for as long as I could, I eased up and began to climb once more. However, another F-16 had climbed above me and began a diving attack. There were a couple of other planes on my tail, but they weren't giving me a whole lot of options to avoid them. I kept my course to attack the diving F-16 and waited until he was about two miles away. At my current speed, we'd only have a couple seconds to line up our targets. Once he was at the desired distance, I gently pushed the stick over to the right while I applied left rudder. This caused my plane to skid to the right while I kept my nose pointed at my target. The F-16 pilot didn't have time to adjust to my maneuver and I was able to tag him out before his allies could do anything, but they kept coming.

I was doing everything I could to try and evade the Emmerian pilots, but it was really doing a number on us. My wife was struggling to stay conscious and I knew it was only a matter of time before I was forced to worry about her wellbeing. Knowing her, however, she'd tell me to keep going and not worry about her, but she knew that I wouldn't listen. I continued to climb while I evaded every plane that made an attack run on me and I countered with a violent maneuver of some kind to evade. There wasn't a single moment to catch my breath and I could feel my arms and legs beginning to ache from all of this maneuvering, but I knew that I could handle it. It wasn't until I saw my wife's head shifting all over the place that I knew that something was wrong.

"Naomi," I said softly, but there was no response.

I tried looking over my shoulder to see if my wife was alright, but my engines were about to quit on me now that I had reached my maximum altitude. If they failed, we'd suffocate to death. My wife was barely hanging in there and I nosed over into a near vertical dive and rolled so that the top of my plane was facing Gracemeria. As I began my dive, I noticed that the other pilots had tried to follow me, but they couldn't chase me past fifty-five thousand feet. None of them could reach my plane from my current altitude and shooting some of them down would've been too easy. However, I needed to get my wife back on the ground ASAP. I dove past the others and sped back to Gracemeria at full speed. My wife wouldn't respond to my calls and I could see that she was slouched over in her seat. It only took me less than ten minutes to reach the city and I could hear air traffic shouting at me because I wasn't listening to their orders even after I told them that I had a mayday situation.

I landed as softly as I could and taxied over towards the hangars as fast as I could so that I could meet the EMS team over there. We got my wife out of her seat and the medical team drove her over to BAS (Battalion Aid Station). I would've gone with her, but I had to do something before I saw her. I unlocked a hatch in the nose of my plane so that I could reach the black box and activated my EP so that I could pull out my laptop. Once I had it, I plugged into the black box and began going through all the radio communications so that I could erase all of it. Once that was done, I ran off towards the aid station to check on my wife. The medics had her in a bed and were pumping oxygen into her. She was alive, but the strain on her was too much to handle. I don't know how long she was out for, but the depravity of oxygen could've caused her permanent brain damage.

The doctors told me that she was going to be alright and that there was nothing to worry about. That didn't stop me from stressing over the fact that I had put my wife through a very dangerous situation. I stayed by her bed for half an hour before Lieutenant Herman knocked on the door to get my attention.

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but we're all wondering the outcome of the training mission," he said.

"Go address your men, Colonel," said the nurse. "I'll watch over your wife."

I sighed to myself because I knew that I had to talk to all of them, but I didn't want to leave my wife. Duty called, however, and I still had a job to do here. I followed Lieutenant Herman back onto the flight line where all the other pilots were waiting and they all fell into formation and stood at attention.

"At ease," I sighed. "Well, you all prevented me from shooting half of you down… but that was some of the worst flying I've ever seen executed by an entire squadron. You all had one job and that was to shoot me down. If it had been one of you in my place, you would've lasted less than a minute. You, what's your name?" I asked one of the F-16 flight leads.

"Commander Daniel Pollini, sir," he said.

"Commander Pollini, would you say that you're capable pilot and leader?"

"Yes, sir," he replied confidently.

"Really, because a capable pilot would've been able to match that eleven G turn for as long as I did instead of loosening up. A capable commander would've coordinated his squadron better instead of having one of them break off when I turned back to re-engage the rest of your formation."

"Sir, Lt. Cross disobeyed my orders to hold formation! It's not fair to blame that on me!" he said.

"Oh, I'm not blaming you," I growled. "Lt. Cross, front and center, now!" A woman with light brown hair and bright green eyes quickly stood in front of me. She looked like she was a couple years older than me and she had this aura of self-confidence around her, but she didn't give off a cocky vibe. "What were you thinking when you broke formation?"

"Sir, I noticed that you were using your superior speed to stay out of our reach. I knew that you'd keep outrunning us no matter what plan the flight leads came up with, so I knew that I had to slow you down somehow."

"Did you tell your allies about your observation?" I asked to which she remained quiet. "Communication is vital in combat. A lack of it can cost you and your allies your lives. Post," I said and Lt. Cross fell back into formation. "Now some of you displayed traits that would be beneficial to every pilot here, but a single trait doesn't trump multiple traits. You might not like me or my training, but there is a method to my madness. You can fall in line or get the hell out of my way, but don't think that I'm here to make your lives a living hell. If you decide that you're going to train under me, I suggest you do some deep reflecting on what happened today, dismissed," I said and I walked away to head towards the aid station.

My wife was still unconscious and I sat by her bed until I fell asleep. It was around 1640hrs when she woke me up. She smiled at me and the doctor came to check on her before he let her go. By the time we got off base and made our way home, it was almost 1800hrs and I was highly annoyed that the doctor wouldn't take my wife's word when she said that she felt fine. Anyways, the drive home was peaceful and the sunset looked beautiful from King's Bridge.

"I had fun today," said my wife in a rather chipper tone. All I could do was give her a semi-confused look and wonder how anything we did today would've been considered fun. "Flying with you felt great and it really got me in the mood."

"Wait, seriously?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, we're going to have fun tonight," she said with a wink and I felt my foot press harder on the accelerator.

* * *

As soon as we arrived home, my husband and I dashed into the house and went towards our offices. Tonight was going to be the best night of our lives since we arrived in Emmeria and I couldn't contain my excitement. I quickly got changed and rushed out towards the living room where I slipped and fell on the hardwood floor.

"Are you okay?" I heard my husband call out from his office.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Are you almost ready?" I asked.

"Just give me a minute, my zipper's stuck."

 _Ugh, not again!_ I sat on the couch and began to go through my What's Up social media page on my phone while I waited. The temperature in the room began to drop and I put my hood on before I began looking at myself through my phone's camera. If I wasn't wearing my cat onesie, I probably would've turned off the AC. _Wait a minute…_ Before I could think about the temperature drop even further, the Bluetooth speaker next to the couch began to play a 4/4 string ostinato in D minor (look it up). My head was on a swivel and I was looking for my husband. He rarely ever got the drop on me, but he's become more devious over the years. The music's tempo began to pick up and its climax was fast approaching. When it finally came, I felt my husband pull me behind the sofa and begin tickling me.

Being tickled was one of the things I hated more than pro-socialist, PC culture, flat-earth enthusiasts, weebs, and country music. Anyways, I was screaming for my husband to stop, but he kept tickling my waist. After about twenty seconds, I regained my composure enough to put him into a cross arm bar. My husband quickly threw one of my legs over him and twisted out of my grip and I tried to counter by grabbing him, but he dove away from me to gain some space. We both glared at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move and he could tell that I was trying to fight a smile.

"What happened to your penguin onesie?" I asked him.

"I got rid of it. Besides, I thought this shark one was cooler. Check it out, I got a fin on the back and everything," he said as he spun around while I laughed at him. As he came out of his spin, he pulled out a Merp gun and fired it in my direction.

I quickly collected myself and leaned out of the way to avoid his shot before I activated my MS and pulled out my Merp guns. Even though we agreed to never use battery powered ones, I figured that we shouldn't hold back for once. My husband pulled out his other gun and things finally took off. For the next fifteen minutes, our house was a battlefield of flying foam darts and Gun-Fu as we tried to shoot each other. I eventually took control of the living room and my husband had hunkered down in the kitchen. I was low on ammo and I knew that I had to make a push if I wanted to get him.

"Give up, you vile woman! You stand no chance against the Sharp-Teeth!" he mocked.

"Ha, it is you who will bow before the might of the Purr-Bloods, you wretched man!"

In an act of desperation, I grabbed a couch cushion and charged towards the kitchen. My husband rose from behind the counter to aim his gun at me, but he couldn't get a clear shot. Since I was keeping myself shielded with a cushion, I couldn't aim down the sights of my gun to line up my shot and my husband easily avoided the last of my darts, but he didn't shoot back. I dropped the cushion and vaulted over the counter as I pulled out a foam sword from my MS in the hopes that I'd be able to hit him with it, but he deflected my strike with a foam sword of his own.

"It seems we must finish this with steel….foam, if we are to decide the victor," said my husband.

"Victory shall be mine! Taste my blade, heathen!" I shouted as I charged at him again.

"Hi-yah"

"Owataaa"

We were using our battle cries as we continued to swing our swords in an attempt to tag one another. Given the fact that we were trained assassins for an international peacekeeping organization, this didn't look like a childish sword fight. My husband had a knack for sword fighting and I was a CQC (Close Quarters Combat) specialist, so one could imagine how a fight like this might actually look.

I deflected my husband's strike to my hip and I swung for his left shoulder only for my attack to be parried. He then tried to bring his sword down on top of my head, but I blocked his move. He then spun around my left side to try and get behind me and strike my left leg. I just barely block his sword from making contact and I tried to bring my sword down on his head, but he blocked it. My husband saw an opening and tried to make a swing for my neck, but he missed when I ducked under his attack and stepped to his left side to swing at his head. However, my husband continued his swing and managed to stop short of my neck just as I brought my sword on his. _Crap, another draw._

"Rock, paper, scissors to see who wins," I shouted.

"Nuh-uh, I got you first!" my husband argued.

"No, you didn't!"

"Yes, I did!"

"No, you didn't!"

"Yes, I did!"

We continued arguing like a couple of children when we suddenly heard the doorbell ring and noticed red and blue lights flashing outside. My husband took off his hood before he headed to the front door and cracked it open to see who it was. I followed his example and peeked over his shoulder to see our neighbors standing in front of a couple police officers on our front porch. I was shocked to see Commander Pollini standing there with his wife.

"Hi, sir, I didn't know you were our neighbors," he said nervously.

"Likewise, Commander," said my husband in a similar fashion. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, we just heard a lot of noise coming from your house and we were wondering if everything was alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." I could sense the anxiousness in my husband's voice because he really didn't want us to be seen like this and neither did I. In an attempt to quell their curiosity, I poke my head over my husband's shoulder to show everyone that I was okay.

"Good evening, Commander," I said and he nodded in acknowledgement.

"Sir, we're going to need to investigate the inside of your house to verify that there's nothing serious going on here," said one of the police officers to which we both hung our heads.

"Is that really necessary, officer?" my husband asked.

"Sorry, sir, it's just standard procedure," he replied.

We both sighed before my husband opened the door and let the officers inside our house. They, along with Commander Pollini and his wife, saw how we were dressed and they all smirked at us. My husband folded his arms and leaned against the wall while he looked at the ground in embarrassment while I clenched my fist in front of my mouth. Commander Pollini also noticed the Merp guns and foam darts that were stuck to the walls as well as our foam swords.

"So, um, Colonel, what-" We didn't give the commander time to finish his sentence before we both shot a glare at him that told him to keep his damn mouth shut. And after what we've done since we got here, he knew that it would be in his best interest to not say anything about what he saw.

The police officers finished walking through our house and concluded their investigation. They warned us that if we caused another domestic disturbance like this again, we'd be given a citation. After everyone had left, my husband and I began to clean up the house before we headed off to bed. However, as I bent over to pick up a dart, my husband smacked my ass with his sword.

"I win," he grinned.

I wanted to argue with him, but I knew he was right. Even though we argued before the police arrived, we still hadn't decided on who won and our game had never officially ended. That was until now. Whenever we played this little game of ours, the winner would receive a back rub from the loser. Anyways, we finished cleaning up our mess before we headed off to our bedroom where my husband unzipped the top half of his onesie before he laid face down on the bed. As I straddled his back, I began looking over the black wings he had tattooed on his back and arms. Even though I was against him getting inked in the first place, I had a new found appreciation for them.

My husband was a very caring man who always thought about others before himself. He knew that the world was a harsh place and that he could do more to help people by joining IOSS. It wasn't until after the Circum-Pacific War that he got these tattoo. He had participated in some of the most grueling operations of the war and he lost a lot of friends throughout his life. He told me that these wings were symbolic in the sense of how he saved a lot of people at the expense of numerous others. Upon joining the Razgriz Initiative in Osea, he decided to embrace the idea of being seen as a fallen angel.

 _The first time you blow someone away is not an insignificant event. That being said, there are some assholes that just need to be shot._

I thought about the time he said this to me as I began to press my palms into his muscles. My husband was well toned for a 185lb man. It was also one of the things I loved about him. Feeling his bare body like this would eventually drive me crazy and things would usually take off from there… but it wasn't easy for us to become as intimate as we used to be after my stillbirth. We talked about this subject extensively over the past couple months and we both agreed that we were scared that it'd happen again. We both wanted to try and start a family, but the exhaustion and stress during my pregnancy was too much if it was going to fail and we both refused to use a surrogate. In spite of all this, I didn't want to give up, but I couldn't say the same for my husband. As caring and driven as he was, he had already suffered a loss similar to ours. I could understand that he didn't want to go through that sort of pain again, but we both wanted to start a family with just the two of us and nobody else.

After about two minutes of massaging my husband's back, I noticed that he had fallen asleep. I guess the stress of today's flight had finally caught up to him. I got off his back and curled up next to him so that I could go to sleep as well. Knowing the kind of work that laid ahead of us within the following weeks, we were going to need all the rest we could get.


	3. Through the Heart of a Nation

**Chapter 2 – Through the Heart of a Nation**

 **Friday, August 28, 2015 2000hrs, Gracemeria, Emmeria**

 _The situation in Estovakia seems to be on the mend. Reports coming from the neighboring country say that the Generals, who had taken over the Estovakian Government last year, have finally put an end to the economic strife that has placed the country into turmoil over the past decade. With stability finally in sight for Estovakia, there may be hope to finally unify all of Anea as planned before the Ulysses disaster. In other news, all-out chaos erupted at the Gracemeria Comic-Con when a couple dressed as the iconic Arachnid-Man and Cat Bugler began arguing over the worst pairing in the Arachnid-Man series._

Director Abrams turned off the TV while my wife and I sat across from her and her bodyguards in our living room. The look of utter disapproval on her face was something that I used to see all the time whenever General Harkin was in front of her. My guess was that she heard about some of the things my wife and I have been up to over the past year. But the fact that she was here meant that something serious was about to happen and I was not looking forward to it.

"We've had a serious development come to our attention since you arrived last year, Lt. Colonel," she began. "Ever since your last assignment, we've been monitoring the situation over in Estovakia and things have taken a turn for the worst. Since the beginning of this month, stability has returned to the country."

"Isn't that a good thing?" asked my wife.

"Not exactly," replied the director as she took out a tan folder form her bag and handed it to me. I opened the folder and began looking through the reports with my wife. Neither of us liked what we saw. "Estovakia returned stability to the population by building up their military and it looks like they're planning for a war with Emmeria. Even though the infighting has stopped, they infrastructure is still in shambles. You both know the easiest way a country can dig itself out of a slump."

"You can't be serious," I exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, you two. I didn't think this situation would escalate so quickly," said the Director.

"But we've past the deadline for this assignment," said my wife. "When are you sending us back to Osea?"

"We can't," she replied bluntly. "The information that's still coming in from our agents tells us that the Estovakians are building up their forces to unprecedented heights. It seems like they don't care what international laws they break and the Emmerians aren't prepared to face an enemy like this. The best thing I can do for you is to assign you several crack pilots from the Emmerian branch of the RSOG and this." The Director threw each of us a small black box and we slowly opened it to see a set of silver eagles sitting in there. "You now have the authority to command the entirety of the Emmerian squadron you've been assigned to."

"We don't want a promotion, Amy. We just want to go home!" I protested.

"And I want to see you go home, but you took on a responsibility to the world when you both joined IOSS. This life is rough, I'm very sorry. But you both need to understand that the people in this country are in serious danger. You of all people should know what that is like," argued the Director. We wanted to argue with her, but she was right. And we both knew damn well that we couldn't abandon these people because we didn't want to become involved in another war.

"Do you know what to expect?" I asked.

"Our intelligence believes that there's gonna be an attack somewhere in Emmeria. The only logical areas to attack are their military bases in order to wipe out as much resistance as possible. Gracemeria's air force and naval bases are highly likely to be one of their primary targets," said the Director.

"Are there any agents trying to sabotage them?" asked my wife.

"The Estovakian agents are doing what they can, but they're also being hunted. We assume they might commence their operations sometime within the next week. Do what you both have to in order to save these people," said the Director as she got up to head out the door. "Oh, and take off those ridiculous costumes. The comic convention's been canceled."

We lowered our heads because we were trying to fight our embarrassment, but most of all, our frustration. When the Director left, we both sat down on our couch and my wife leaned on me. With the inevitability of war looming over us again, we thought about what was going to happen with us thrown into the mix. I wanted to ask General Harkin what he'd do knowing what we knew. This war was the last thing I wanted on my mind, but then I noticed that my wife was running her finger down my abdomen through my Arachnid-Man suit.

"You know, Arachnid-Man, this isn't going to be the first time we've had to save a country from war," purred my wife and I felt myself crack a smile.

"You only agreed to help me after I persuaded you not to rob that veteran's charity, Cat Burglar" I replied.

"Oh and persuade me you did," said my wife as she got up and straddled my lap. "Hey, listen, I know things haven't been easy for us, but I just want you to know that I love you… I know I don't say that as much as I should because you already know I do, but I just wanted you to hear me say it even though we haven't been intimate in over a year now," she said sincerely.

"I know you mean it. I love you too. I always have… and I always will," I said softly as I gazed into her eyes.

We continued to lock eyes with each other for a bit longer until my wife began to slowly move in for a kiss. Seeing as how we were in for another long haul, I welcomed the moment we were about to have. However, before our lips could even make contact, our doorbell rang and we both sighed in disappointment. My wife got off my lap and I went to go answer the door. Commander Pollini was waiting there for me and he gave me another confused look when he saw how I was dressed. Seeing how we've been neighbors for the past year, he's seen me and my wife at some of our worst moments.

"This isn't the worst thing you've caught me doing, Commander," I said somewhat annoyed.

"Yeah, I know… may I come in?" he asked. Pollini walked inside our house and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw my wife.

"Good evening, Commander," she said as she leaned against the sofa and Pollini began blushing like crazy.

"Is there something you wanted to talk to us about?" I asked and Pollini snapped back to reality.

"Yeah, I just got a message from the base commander that we're going to be sitting alert until further notice. Do you know anything about this?" he asked. I couldn't tell him that I knew something serious was going to happen because I didn't want him to cause a panic. In hindsight, it might've been better if I did so that he could relay the message to the other pilots so that they'd be ready. However, all I could do was deny any knowledge of the alert. "Well, we're all going to be sitting alert starting tonight. The base commander also said that you're in command of all air assets until further notice."

I sighed and acknowledged Pollini before he left. When he was gone, my wife and I began packing all of our vital equipment into our MSs. I packed all of my survival gear, a hygiene kit, a couple other things to keep myself entertained, and my personal weapons including General Harkin's 1911. It wasn't until I held it in my hands that I remembered that I had his journal already in my MS, but I hadn't touched it in a while. Something told me that it was going to be a crutch for my sanity throughout the upcoming war. Anyways, once we were ready, we headed out to my car and I drove us towards the air base. When we got there, we saw that a majority of the base personnel were here and were headed towards the primary hangars to hear the base commander's orders. Everyone was complaining about the alert status and I could feel most of them glaring at me and my wife as we waited for the brass to start their speech. Ever since we began training these people, they were highly annoyed with us in regards to how we treated them over the past year.

"Attention, all base personnel, attention," announced the base commander. "Until further notice from our department of defense, we will be sitting on elevated alert. As of now, all flight operations not in direct response to this alert will be suspended. Each unit will rotate every twelve hours and you will be confined to the base unless you've been given permission by your commanding officer. We don't expect this alert to last longer than a few days, but we expect you to take this alert status seriously. That is all."

Everyone in the hangar began to disperse while I stood there with my wife. The base commander could only look at us with a halfhearted smile because he knew about the imminent danger. He then turned to talk with the rest of the brass about other matters and my wife and I headed out of the hangar to stand on the flight line. A lot was going through my mind at this point. All the friends I've lost during the Circum-Pacific war and the failed operation I was a part of in Estovakia. It was a lot to cope with right now.

"Hey," said my wife as she nudged my arm. "Remember the day you asked me to marry you?"

"How could I forget," I chuckled.

"Yeah, that was some pretty terrible timing. You never did tell me why you did it in that moment."

"That's something I'd like to hear about too." We both turned to see Lieutenant Herman and Commander Pollini standing behind us with mischievous grins on their faces. "You two seem like your married lives are interesting enough as it is, so there's gotta be a good story behind your proposal, Colonel," said Lieutenant Herman. I lowered my head and thought back to that day. Everything was in total chaos the moment I proposed.

"He proposed to me during a bar fight," said my wife and I couldn't bring myself to look Herman or Pollini in the eye.

"Why the hell did you pick that moment to propose to her?" asked Lieutenant Herman.

"She wouldn't let any other woman approach me," I shrugged nervously.

"Were you that protective of him while you were dating?"

"Well, yeah… but I was also drunk that night," said my wife shyly.

"So… why did you propose to her?" asked Lieutenant Herman.

"I thought I was going to go to jail or worse, so I thought it would've been better if I swore myself to her in holy matrimony before then," I shrugged.

"Sheesh, and I thought me and my wife were an odd couple," said Lieutenant Herman.

"Trust me, they got you and everyone else here beat," laughed Commander Pollini to which he heard me and my wife cracking our knuckles. "Right, anyways, why would you think that you and your wife are an odd couple, Herman?"

"We have this odd way of telling each other goodbye. Every time I head out on long hops, she gets mad at me and tells me to go dance with the angels," he replied.

"Sounds like she's telling you to go die," I said bluntly.

"You and everyone else, Colonel, but she really means just go and fly with the others. Anyways, my daughter started saying it and it's become a cornerstone of our family."

"You must really love your wife, huh?" my wife asked.

"Yeah, it's the reason I have her name painted on my plane. My angel," he said as he looked towards the hangar.

"You know, in all the time we've been here, we've never found out your call sign," said my wife and I was kicking myself because I didn't realize it sooner.

Commander Pollini's nickname was Windhover and he got it because he had a bout of serious gas during flight training. The story went that he broke wind so badly that he could've hovered off his seat. If I hadn't heard that story, I would've thought that Windhover was a pretty solid nickname. Lieutenant Herman's nickname was Angel due to everyone thinking that his wife kept telling him to die. The sad thing was that my wife and I never bothered trying to learn the other pilot's call signs because we didn't think it mattered. We only used their real names anyways.

* * *

It was strange to be talking with everyone like this for once. Ever since we got here last year, we haven't gotten to know these men and women other than Pollini. Since we lived next door, he caught me and my husband on numerous occasions while we were up to our unusual antics. He quickly came to realize how seriously we took our jobs and didn't harbor any animosity towards us, unlike the other pilots. They were people just like us and a lot of people around the base failed to realize just how much in common we all have. I've been all over the world and have meet a lot of wonderful people, and my younger self wouldn't have ever known that these people ever existed. This was one of the reasons I chose this line of work. We all lived in a beautiful world, but no one really ever stopped to notice it. My husband's reason for joining was similar, but it mostly had to do with stopping people who made conquest their overall goal. I hated people like that just as much as he did, but the main reason I took this job was so that I could take care of my husband.

We spent the rest of the night sitting in the field between the runways just talking. Lieutenant Herman quickly became one of the people I admired the most because of the way he talked about his family and reasons as to why he decided to join the Emmerian Air Force. He was so passionate about everything, but what did I expect from a man of God? Commander Pollini on the other hand was more serious. I guess it was because of his rank and his responsibility as a Commander. We all became friends over the course of the night. We spent all night out in that field together and we even fell asleep out there. It didn't stop there though. We all went to the mess hall to get breakfast together, but the food wasn't any better than any of my other deployments. Lieutenant Herman and Commander Pollini didn't think that it was all that bad, and I almost said something condescending regarding this country's food culture.

When the time came for our rotation for the alert status, we each headed off to the hangars where our planes were. Sitting on alert was extremely boring and I tried passing the time by playing a game with my husband called 'you become a multimillionaire, but…'

"Okay, you become a multimillionaire, but for the rest of your life, you're the biggest flat-earth enthusiast," said my husband.

"Oh, _hell_ no," I said bluntly and my husband began laughing. "Alright, you become a multimillionaire, but for the rest of your life, you wake up as different comic book character every morning."

"Is it only main characters, or do supporting characters count too?" he asked.

"As long as they have a name and some hint of a personality, there's a chance that you become them."

"Am I limited to only one comic book universe?"

"Any and all comic books that have been published are fair game."

"Hmm, I could do it," he replied with a grin.

It was a fun way to pass the time and a bunch of our friends back in Osea liked coming up with scenarios as well. Sometimes they'd open a whole new conversation and we'd become enveloped in these discussions, bringing us closer together. Anyways, when our rotation ended, we met back up with Lieutenant Herman and Commander Pollini and got them in on the fun. It quickly became the highlight of our night until we headed off towards the barracks to get some sleep.

 **Sunday, August 30, 2015 1130hrs**

Being able to sleep in during a day like today was rather nice considering that we were still sitting alert. Even though we knew that there was an imminent danger, there wasn't a hint of it in the air. Regardless of how my husband and I were feeling, we were still on guard. Anyways, we headed to the mess hall where we met up with Lieutenant Herman and Commander Pollini.

"Who goes on a field trip on a Sunday?" I asked.

"My daughter does," sighed Lieutenant Herman. "I was supposed to chaperone a group while they went to the King's palace. You've been there since you've gotten here, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but we didn't see much before we decided to leave," said my husband.

"Why not, is our country's history not exciting enough for you?" Lieutenant Herman joked.

"We're pretty accident prone and we didn't want to break anything during our visit," said my husband and Commander Pollini gave us a look like he knew we were lying.

"Yeah, the last thing I wanted was to have an entire city hate us because we broke a priceless artifact," I said.

The truth of the matter was that my husband and I made a bet with each other to steal something from the castle. And whoever stole the most valuable artifact would be the winner. Of course, we'd return the items, but we feared Director Abram's reprisal too much when she found out. We decided that it was better to just leave before the temptation overpowered us.

"Knowing you two, I figured that you'd try to do something stupid in there end up getting caught," said Commander Pollini.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Lieutenant Herman.

"We have an odd sense of humor. Let's just leave it at that," I said.

"No, now I'm curious. What's the Commander talking about?"

"Pollini, you might have a ton of dirt on us, be we've got a ton of dirt on you as well," I told him.

Commander Pollini thought he was about to call our bluff, but an air raid alarm began to blare. We all looked at each other for a couple second before we and everyone else in the mess hall made a mad dash towards the hangars. The ground crew had already armed our Eagle with AIM-9 Sidewinders and AIM-120 AMRAAMs (Advanced Medium-Range Air-to-Air Missile). As we were getting changed, I noticed the look on my husband's face while he was putting on his flight gear. He was nervous about flying in actual combat again. It had been over a year since he was shot down. But seeing as how our enemy was likely Estovakia, he had to have been feeling the pressure.

As soon as we got ready, we climbed into the Eagle and my husband fired up the engines while I coordinated with the ground crew over the radio. Already we were hearing chaotic chatter coming from numerous sources asking for a situation report. Nobody could give a straight answer because the information was still coming in. Herman and Pollini were taxiing onto the runway when we heard that King's Bridge was destroyed. That's all the information that was available to us by the time we got clearance for takeoff. Once we were airborne, we zoom climbed to join the other aircraft that had already made it into the air. There were still planes that were trying to scramble, but it didn't seem like the brass was going to wait for them.

"Airborne Warning and Control System Ghost Eye to all scrambling defense craft. The situation has not yet been ascertained. We must implement an emergency reformation. Follow your individual instructions," said our AWACS. "Garuda 1, you do not have a wingman. Let's see… Shamrock, are you alone, too? Very well, as of now, you're Garuda 2."

I looked over my right shoulder to see a lone F-16 weave through the formation to join on our right wing. We had no idea who he was, but at least we had someone watching our backs for now. I just hoped that he was able to keep up with my husband's flying.

"Okay, so I'm Garuda 2," said Shamrock. "Garuda 1, I've got you back. No time for introductions now, though. Go ahead and I'll follow your lead. Never was good with directions anyhow."

"Just stick to me as close as you can," said my husband.

"Garuda Team, you are authorized to engage any hostile aircraft above Gracemeria," said Ghost eye.

"Roger that."

"May the Golden King smile upon us," said Shamrock as we rolled over and dove into the action.

* * *

It was a terrible sight to see this city in such a state of emergency. Smoke was billowing up from explosions going off everywhere. These enemy bombers were dropping eggs on civilian areas and I began to feel my blood boil, but I had to keep my composure. Enemy IFF markers littered my HUD (Heads-Up Display) and I couldn't decide who I should've targeted first. There were more enemy planes here and not too many allies around, but I wasn't going to let that stop me. I had to protect the people of this city and I had to disregard any doubt that I had.

"Charm, I need you to try and gather all the intel you can from the enemy communications. Give me control of all weapon systems for now," I told her and she acknowledged. "Shamrock, you're weapons free."

"Ghost eye to Garuda 1, Talisman, and Garuda 2, Shamrock, we're currently in a state of emergency. Our nation is under attack by unknown forces. Do whatever you can to fend off the invasion."

The last thing I did was take a deep breath before I put on my oxygen mask to engage the first group of enemies that were headed my way. They were a group of Mirage 2000s and they already had a lock on us. I rolled under the enemy missile and fired a missile at another Mirage within the approaching formation. I didn't bother trying to confirm the kill because there were hundreds of other enemies that were swarming around. The first ones that caught my attention were the B-52s that were indiscriminately bombing the city in double file formations.

"This is Commander Windhover of the 15th Squadron. The enemy is expanding their field of attack, stay alert."

I looked at my radar to see the overall enemy positions of the area and saw that Pollini was right. Enemy fighters were coming out of the woodwork and were closing on my position rapidly. This was when I remembered that Shamrock was supposed to be in trail with me and I was surprised to see that he was still there.

"Shamrock, get after those bombers. I'll cover you," I ordered and he sped on towards the B-52 while I broke hard to the left. There were no enemy planes following me, but there were a gaggle of those assholes gunning for Shamrock. I quickly reversed my direction and fell into position behind all ten of them. I switched over to my AMRAAMs and quickly locked onto six of the enemy planes. Once I had tone, I launched all of my missiles before I switched over to my sidewinders and downed another two planes. The last two enemies were about to break off their attack, but I switched to my gun and severed the wing off of one of the fighters. The remaining enemy broke hard right and I couldn't match their turn, resulting in an over shoot. The enemy plane reversed their direction and fell onto my six. His 30mm shells were flying by my canopy at a pretty wide margin and I knew that I could counter with ease. "Hold on, Charm," I said as I pulled the airbrake.

I snapped the stick back and applied full bottom rudder. My Eagle reacted smartly and rolled over into position behind the Mirage. My missiles hadn't reloaded yet and I quickly lined up the plane in my gunsight. My bullets walked their way up the center of the fuselage until I saw them disappear into the Mirage's cockpit. It was here that I realized that we were engaging these bastards over populated areas meaning that any stray bullets, missiles, and plane wreckages were going to fall on the people below. _Ugh, this is just like Port St. Hewlett all over again._ There was no safe way to engage these planes without harming the civilians.

This was one of the brutal facts that everyone in war has to come to terms with. People will die. There's no avoiding this in war. Allies will die, friends will die, and civilians will get caught in the crossfire. And in some cases, they'll become the targets of the enemy. The people I was flying with had more riding on this battle than I did. This was their home city, and they'll be damned if they were going to let these assholes waltz right in.

I focused back on the battle and saw Shamrock going in after the B-52s. We both dove on them after I saw that we were clear, but we were not expecting these things to still operate a tail gunner. The B-52s in Osea didn't have these defensive positions on them, and to see them still operating on these bombers was an amazing sight. My surprise didn't last long because its bullets were already coming towards us. Shamrock broke off his attack to the left and I broke to the right away from him. I was about to tell him to attack the bombers from any of the gunner's blind spots, but he had already looped around to fire his gun into the bomber's wing from its eleven o' clock. The bomber broke apart immediately after Shamrock's attack and I followed his lead by attacking the lead bomber.

I came in at the bomber's twelve o' clock and unloaded a bunch of bullets into its cockpit before I rolled over it and launched a sidewinder at the trailing plane. I then rolled under that bomber and a lunched another missile into the last one in the formation. My missile found its way into the bomb bay of the bomber and its payload detonated. I didn't mean to hit that part of the plane and the explosion was strong enough to rock my plane as I flew by it. Luckily for me and my wife, we didn't take any serious damage.

"Talisman, the enemy is holding something back," said my wife in German. "Based on the enemy fighters we've encountered so far and their attack patterns, this is just a diversion. They're targeting all of our strategic positions, but they're collapsing too quickly and they haven't done a significant amount of damage to hold off our counter attack. I think they're trying to exhaust us first."

"Roger that, get back on the weapon systems. We still have to hold out until they play their hand," I replied.

Shamrock formed back onto my wing and we both turned to take out the remaining bombers. As we finished mopping them up, planes began to fall out of the sky left and right. The people down below were rushing to take shelter anywhere they could. Some of them were caught in the enemy attacks while others were unfortunate to get caught in collateral damage. The only thing that drove me at this point was to make these bastards pay for this mess and I dove into the fur ball with my wingman.

"We've got an ID on the invaders," said Ghost Eye suddenly. "We're engaged with the Estovakian military."

 _At least the Director's Intel on this was right for once._

"The Estovakians," Pollini quietly exclaimed.

"Their economy's been in shambles for years," said another pilot who went by the name Avalanche. "It looks like they finally snapped."

Everywhere I looked, I could see that the Emmerian pilots were gaining the upper hand. They were adhering to the training I had pounded into them over the past year, but they could've done a lot better. This whole situation would show what these people were really capable of and I was almost glad that they had a chance to put my lessons to good use. However, only a handful of pilots actually stood out. Commander Pollini was one of them along with Avalanche squadron of the 2nd Carrier Air Wing, 2nd Strike fighter Group. They consisted of Avalanche, Blizzard, Serac, and Lieutenant Herman. All of them were working together with great efficiency and it was only a matter of time before they alone had managed to put a massive dent in the enemy's fighter formation.

"It looks like the Stovies are running out of steam. Had enough, boys?" teased Avalanche.

"The Estovakian threat level has reduced. You should be able to hold out against them," announced Ghost Eye.

"Alright, let's hurry up and clear them out," I said.

Even though they might not have known it, but I was beginning to see what my wife was talking about when she said that the Estovakians were holding back. The longer we took trying to clear out these enemies, the easier it would be for the Estovakians to make their final push. Aside from their bombing raid, we also had to deal with the airborne tanks that had been dropped at the far end of the city. Not only that, there was a squadron of helicopter gunships that was headed for the runway. If it wasn't for the relentless wave of enemy fighters, we would've been able to deal with them. This was when I looked into the bay and noticed a large battle cruiser surrounded by a few other smaller ships. They were launching missiles at any plane that came in to attack the fleet, but I needed their help.

"This is Colonel Talisman to the 2nd Fleet ships, we need support up here. Target any and all Estovakian fighters within range!" I ordered.

"Roger that, Talisman, beginning attack," reported the allied fleet's CIC (Combat Information Center).

Multiple plumes of smoke began to streak up into the sky towards the enemy fighters. Not only that, the Emmerian pilots began to engage any fighters that crossed their paths. The Estovakian planes all began dropping like flies and I was able to break through to head towards the air field, but we were too late. The gunships had already strafed the runway with their rocket, rendering it totally inoperable. Having nowhere to land was the least of our problems. We still had a large enemy force pushing through the city. Shamrock had launched his AMRAAMs at the helicopter squadron, knocking them out of action once we were in range. Once they were dealt with, we turned to head for the northern part of the city to mop up the remaining enemy planes.

There were still a good number of them left and Shamrock and I launched all of our AMRAAMs as soon as our weapons reloaded. All but three of our missiles hit their mark and Avalanche's team swooped in followed by the remaining Emmerian pilots. There were still a few bombers left and I dove after them with Shamrock in tow. As I was about to make my attack run, the radio erupted with chatter about an enemy naval unit blockading the entrance to the harbor. There were several Estovakian ships blocking the way and they were pounding the hell out of the Emmerian fleet.

"Avalanche, take your team and clear the way for those ships. Windhover, provide top cover for them. Everyone else focus on the bombers. Don't let them cause any more damage to the place," I ordered and everyone acknowledged.

Shamrock and I pressed our attack on the bombers and we came in from their three o' clock high. Shamrock let a sidewinder off the rail, but the bombers deployed their countermeasures to foil his attack. He didn't have enough time to target another bomber and broke off his attack so that I could target the lead bomber with my gun. My gunsight settled over the nose of the B-52 and I fired a long enough burst to tear off the entire cockpit section of the plane. It began to stagger to the left and flew in front of another bomber, causing them to collide in a spectacular fashion. There were still four more planes there and we both quickly engaged them until they were all shot down.

"Our runway's been bombed to hell! It's totally useless now!" someone shouted.

"Where are we supposed to go now?" my wife muttered.

"We'll worry about that later. I need you to stay focused," I told her.

"Yeah, sorry… Talisman, I'm picking up a lot of Estovakian chatter. You might want to listen to it."

I switched over to the wideband radio channel to listen in on the Estovakian communications. Their initial push into the city was losing its momentum and they knew the Emmerians were beginning to relax. If the Estovakians were going to attack, now would be the perfect time.

"Aigaion to Strigon Team, we are prepared to launch," said an Estovakian commander.

"Strigon Leader to Aigaion, we will commence mission operations once your delivery is complete," said a familiar voice.

"Attention all aircraft, we are ready for Nimbus launch. Begin the countdown," said Aigaion and someone began a countdown.

"Engage the enemy at will following Nimbus impact. Finish them off," said the familiar voice.

 _Oh, shit!_

"Alright everyone, finish off these assholes and push them back to their shithole of a country," said Commander Pollini.

"We're not done yet, stay alert!" I warned and I could feel Shamrock looking at me.

"What's this…missile," exclaimed Ghost Eye.

I looked up to see seven contrails fly in from the north. I knew right away what they were, but I couldn't relay any orders before they detonated. Gigantic balls of fire began to ignite in the sky and numerous allied pilots had gotten caught in the middle of them. Emmerian chatter began to flood the radio waves and no one knew what the hell was going on.

"What the hell just happened?!" someone asked.

"Multiple cruise missiles just detonated midair! Half our planes have been wiped off the radar," exclaimed Avalanche.

"What the hell was that? Where are they coming from?" asked Shamrock.

"Evade like hell if you want out of this alive!" shouted Commander Pollini.

 _Oh, yeah, just weave through the missiles? What are you, nuts?!_

"Dammit, what about our city," asked Shamrock. "What about Gracemeria?"

"We're still alive and we still got ammo! You can still fight! Regroup and engage those fighters. We'll worry about those missiles when the time comes!" I shouted and the Emmerians began to form back into their formations.

I looked in my rearview mirror and my wife nodded as if she were telling me that we were going to help these people despite the danger. I rolled over into a dive to latch onto the tail of another enemy plane while he was trying to go after an Emmerian pilot. He didn't know what was about to hit him until it was too late. His plane blew apart when my bullets ripped into his fuel tanks and I pulled into a climb to engage another enemy fighter. But before I could let him have it, another cruise missile came screaming in and I broke off my attack to get out of its blast radius.

This whole situation was bringing me back to that day in Estovakia and I was trying to stay calm, but it wasn't enough. My breathing became heavier and I was throwing my head all over the place to make sure that I wasn't being targeted. The last time I saw these missiles, 'they' showed up.

"Warning, additional enemy planes have been spotted on radar. You don't wanna know how many," Ghost Eye advised.

I tuned into the enemy communications to find out who was joining the battle and I felt my heart beginning to pound inside my chest when I heard them speak. "This is Strigon 12, target acquired. Moving to engage," said an Estovakian.

"Calling all Strigon planes, Gracemeria shall be ours for the taking," said the familiar enemy voice.

 _It's them!_ I looked at my radar and spotted eight new enemy radar signatures coming in fast. When I took a look through my binoculars, I saw that they were eight red and black Su-33s. Normally, I would've been able to out fly them due to the many hours of flight experience I've had over the years and the tutelage I've gained from General Harkin, but these pilots weren't average. They were all extremely gifted aviators and I knew that the Emmerian pilots didn't have a chance. These pilots were the reason I was shot down last year. I felt my hands beginning to tremble and I froze in my seat as I began to contemplate the situation that I was in because I knew that it was only a matter of time before they got me again.

 _You really want to know what I'm scared of. Alright, my biggest fear is not being able to do anything while knowing that I have the capacity to something._

My hand suddenly stopped shaking and I began to slow my breathing. I began to reflect on my last encounter with these pilots. They were known as the Strigon Team and their squadron emblem was the Grim Reaper. They were only one of the two most elite squadrons in the Estovakian military, but the Strigon team was more renowned. I already knew their tactics and I was prepared to deal with them in the most effective way possible. But before I could turn to engage them, Ghost Eye began to broadcast orders to all of us.

"Air Defense Command has ordered an evacuation," he said. "You've been ordered to give up Gracemeria. Break away from this airspace and head west."

"Are you out of your mind? We can't comply with that order," protested Commander Pollini.

"We are militarily at a huge disadvantage. Comply with the order and head west."

"This is Avalanche, we're not going anywhere!"

"Listen, it's only temporary! The plan is to withdraw, meet up with all remaining forces from each area, then regroup for a counter attack," said Ghost Eye. _Way to give away your military strategy, even if it's vague as hell!_ "We can't afford to lose you. Follow the order."

"This is Garuda 2 to Garuda 1, we really should get out of here," advised Shamrock.

"I know," I replied as I tried to spot our remaining allies. Most of them were damaged and some of them were straggling. Everyone was so disorganized that the Estovakians would have a field day downing the few planes we had left. It was going to be a massacre if I didn't do anything. "Shamrock, we're going to cover the retreat. Keep those Estovakians off our allies."

"What about you? You won't have a wingman!"

"I have another set of eyes with me, she'll watch my back."

Shamrock acknowledged and we dove on the first Estovakian planes we saw gunning for our planes. There was a whole gaggle of them and I launched all of my AMRAAMs at them once my wife locked onto them and Shamrock did the same thing. We were only able to make that one pass before I looked behind us to see the Strigon Team pouring in on us. Shamrock broke hard to the left while I went right. The two planes that were on my tail tried pulling lead on me, but my pursuers over shot. Four of them broke off in my direction, but only two of them turned to engage me while the other two tried to go after the fleeing Emmerians.

I quickly rolled under my pursuers and turned to go after the pair of Su-33s attacking my allies. My wife immediately locked onto them and I launched a pair of AMRAAMs at them. Both of the Su-33s broke off their attack and I reversed my direction again to avoid the two that were still on my tail. I opened the throttle all the way and began to run as fast as I could. Both of my attackers were glued to my tail and I was watching them closely so that I could time my move perfectly. Tracers from both enemy planes were flying by us and I could tell that my wife was growing rather nervous of the situation we were in by the way she was trying to keep her eye on the Estovakians.

"Charm, keep an eye on our allies and tell me when they're being targeted. I'll worry about our tails," I told her.

"A-," she began, but she stopped herself. "Are you sure you can handle this?"

"I can do this," I said confidently. "I'm gonna make it up to the General."

My missile alert went off and broke into it so that it passed under my right wing. However, the maneuver robbed me of precious air speed and the Estovakian pilots pulled lead on us in preparation to fire. Before they could open fire, my wife told me that a quartet of Strigons was going for the Emmerians. I quickly rolled under their stream and gave the engines full power so that I could intercept the attackers. My wife shifted her focus on our attackers while I focused on the four Strigons who were trying to take out our allies. Another salvo of AMRAAMs broke up the formation and I pulled away into a climbing left turn so that I could deal with my attackers. More 30mm shells flew by our plane and I began rolling erratically to throw off their aim. When they tried going for another missile shot, my wife deployed our countermeasures and foiled their attacks.

"Shit, they're almost on top of us!" shouted an Emmerian F-16.

"Keep going, we have to get out of here!" shouted Commander Pollini.

"We're not going to make it without cover and those damn missiles aren't making this any easier!"

"Hang on guys, we're on our way!" I told them as I avoided another attack from the Strigons. "Shamrock, how are doing over there?"

"They're all over me, Colonel! I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up and I'm too tied up to provide any kind of support!" he shouted.

"I've got your back, Colonel!" I began scanning the allied formation to see an F-18 break off and head towards the enemy formation. Upon further inspection, I noticed that it was Lieutenant Herman's plane. "I'll try and cover them as best as I can!"

"Avalanche, don't let him fight alone!" I ordered and Avalanche broke off with Blizzard and Serac to help Herman.

I dove away from the Strigons and continued to weave through their attack. More enemy planes began to gun for the Emmerians and I figured that they'd be easier to down than the Strigons. I pulled into a high G right turn with the Strigons in tow and then I broke left while I applied bottom rudder so that I was now in a dive. The Strigons lost sight of me long enough so that I could engage a formation of enemy Mirages. I sent another salvo of six AMRAAMs towards them and they all hit their mark, but they just kept coming. Lieutenant Herman was taking point in the support effort while the others continued to retreat. However, it wasn't enough.

Several enemy planes latched onto Herman's tail and he began to weave through their attacks with ease. Herman was beginning to turn the tables on his attackers and it surprised the hell out of me when I saw him pull a variation of Pugachev's Cobra and fall into position behind all of his attackers. He continued his pursuit of the five enemy planes as they all turned to focus on the retreating Emmerians, but he didn't see the lead Strigon diving on him.

"Angel, he's on you from six o' clock high!" I warned.

Herman didn't say anything as he launched his AMRAAMs before he broke off his attack to throw off the Strigon leader. Herman pulled a sharp left turn in an attempt to throw off his attack, but it was no use. The Su-33 fired his gun into Herman's F-18 and scored a critical hit on his engines before he peeled away.

"Herman!"

"I'm okay, I only lost one engine," he said, but more Estovakians were converging on him.

I lost all sense of reason when I saw those Estovakians gun for him. I quickly weaved through another attack from the Strigons that were on my tail before I pulled the airbrake and bled a lot of speed. When I was slow enough, I snapped the stick into my gut and applied full right rudder so that I could roll into position behind my attacker. Once I was there, I unloaded a bunch of bullets into the trailing plane's wing. It didn't tear off, but it was rendered totally useless. The other Strigon broke away, leaving me free to head after the Strigon leader.

I hit the afterburners and sped towards Lieutenant Herman so that I could launch my last Salvo of AMRAAMs at the Estovakian planes that were targeting him. My wife managed to confirm all six kills, but I didn't care. I wanted that lead Strigon. I came at him from head on and he tried targeting me with his missiles, but I threw off his attack by firing my gun at him. He rolled under my stream and pulled a hard right turn to latch onto my tail. I was surprised… shocked actually, when I saw him pull the tightest turn I've ever seen in a Sukhoi. The shocking thing about it was that he recovered his speed almost instantaneously. With this asshole on my tail, I had to do everything I could to shake him off. There was no way that I could out turn or outrun him if he could accelerate that quickly. My only chance of coming out on top was to outfly him.

I pulled into a climb and began a vertical spiral while he tried getting a missile lock. After two spirals, I pulled back on the stick and looped back over into a dive where I spiraled once more, before I leveled out and pulled into another climb so that I could lure him into a rolling scissors. I looked back to make sure that he was following and I saw that he was about to pull lead when my wife warned me that Shamrock was coming towards us from head on with an enemy on his tail. Shamrock nosed down enough for me to get a clear shot on his attacker and I unloaded a burst from my gun into the cockpit of the Estovakian plane. With him knocked out, I could focus back on the Strigon leader.

I pulled back into another climbing left turn with the Strigon pulling lead. At the apex of my climb, I fainted to the right and snapped back over to the left. This threw off the Strigon and drew him closer to my plane so that I could initiate a rolling scissors. However, he was able to stay in the saddle despite my maneuvering. The Strigon managed to snap a burst from his gun and nail my right wing a couple times. I cut the throttle and rolled to the left which nearly caused him to overshoot, but he applied more throttle to his engines and began to climb above me. I tried to follow after him only for him to loop back around while I gave him a bad angle by flat turning after him. The Estovakian dove past me in a spiral and I pulled into a climb in an attempt to point my plane towards the ground using God's G. I was able to match the enemy's turn this way, but now he was able to use the same method to get on my tail with an aircraft with superior mobility. I pulled into another climbing left turn and rolled over into a diving right turn. When I saw that the Estovakian was about to open fire, I leveled out and began to fly close to the deck at high speed. We were both going well over Mach 2 and I needed this guy to screw up somehow so that I could get a shot off on him.

The only reason I was still alive right now was because the Estovakian was too close for a missile lock and because his gun was inferior to mine. Typically, his plane could only carry 150 rounds of 30mm ammo and fired at a rate of 1,500 – 1,800 rpm (rounds per minute). The M-61 my Eagle was carrying had an rpm of 6,000 with 500 rounds of 20mm ammo. But thanks to the same technology that allowed me to carry my missiles internally, I was able to hold almost five times that amount of bullets. To top it all off, his gun had a lower muzzle velocity (the speed of the bullet as it leaves the gun barrel) meaning that his bullets would hit their mark later than mine. This was the factor that I was taking advantage of the most in order to prolong mine and my wife's life.

I cut the throttle and began to roll in an attempt to force the Estovakian to over shoot, but he knew what he was doing. In order to bleed more of his speed, the Estovakian pulled up into a wide barrel roll so that he could fall into position behind me. Even though I knew that he had the advantage in this fight, I kept trying to roll into position behind him. I was expertly working the controls of my plane and I could tell that the enemy pilot had thrown caution to the wind the longer he tried to get into position. He eventually slipped up and pulled ahead of me. The Estovakian peeled away into a climbing right turn with me in lag pursuit.

I was in his blind spot and he began to roll his plane in an attempt to find me, but he made a mistake when he nosed over towards the ground. I was still a good distance away from him and I was able to cut inside of his turn and pull lead on him. It was all I needed to finally turn the tables on him and I calmly lined him up in my gunsight. My cannon roared to life as it spewed its volley of death and ripped into my enemy's right wing. His Su-33 tipped over to the right and he tried to pull into a climb to try and get away, but it only gave me another opportunity to hit him. I centered my gunsight over the center of his plane and fired a longer stream into the fuselage until it caught fire. The Su-33 began to bleed speed and I rolled out of the way so that I was flying off his right wing. From where I was, I could clearly see the man sitting in the cockpit. It was then that I recognized who he was. _Voychek…_

Lieutenant Colonel Victor Voychek was the leader of Strigon Team and one of the most skilled pilots in the world. He was also the best pilot of the Eastern Faction during the Estovakian Civil War. He even handpicked and trained the pilots of Strigon team to mold them into one of the most elite fighter groups I've ever seen. Voychek didn't know who I was, but I had a feeling that he'd remember me and send his number two man after me.

"Talisman, behind us!" my wife shouted.

I looked back to see two Su-33s diving on us and I fainted to the right before I pulled a hard left turn. My attackers over shot and I rolled over to reengage them. The trailing plane tried to run, but I sent a sidewinder his way that forced him to brake right. He avoided my missile, but he couldn't avoid my bullets as I sent them into his cockpit. The remaining Strigon broke off the engagement and I looked around to see that the Strigon team was breaking off their attack along with the remaining Estovakians.

"Shamrock, sound off!" I ordered.

"I'm here, sir," he replied as he fell into position on my right wing. His plane had some minor damage to it and I was surprised to see that he was still in one piece after I saw him with several Strigons on his ass. "The others are up ahead. We should hurry up and join them."

We both increased our throttle to join the remaining Emmerian pilots. One of them was Lieutenant Herman's plane and I could see that it was damaged badly. One of his engines was torn to shreds and his wings were badly damaged as well. When I pulled up alongside him, his canopy was shattered and I could see blood splattered on the side as well. I could tell that he was breathing heavily and he was trying his best to stay awake.

"Angel," gasped my wife and he turned his head to look at us.

"I got five of them, sir!" he cried, trying to mask his pain.

"You did great, Angel. You're an ace," I said trying to keep his hopes up. "Come on, we gotta join back up with the others."

"No, you have to go on without me! You have to keep the others safe!"

"Don't talk like that! You're coming with us!"

"I can't make it," he said softly as he began to weep. "I'm losing too much blood and my ejection seat isn't working."

"Michael, I don't see any wings on you and I refuse to see you dance with any angels other than your wife and daughter. Pull yourself together for their sake!" I shouted and there was a period of silence between us. A minute passed before I began to hear him singing softly over the radio.

 _May your dreams bring you peace in the darkness_

 _May you always rise over the rain_

 _May the light from above always lead you to love,_

 _May you stay in the arms of the angels_

I didn't know if he was singing to keep himself conscious or if he really was fading away. As much as I didn't want to face the inevitable, I had to. In the short amount of time that I knew him, Michael was a man who didn't deserve to die, but I guess God needed him. My wife was being moved to tears and she joined him in singing until he eventually began to lose altitude.

"Colonel Driver and Colonel Yamada; please tell my wife and daughter that I'll always love them," he said softly.

"We will, Michael. Until we meet again," said my wife.

Neither one of us could watch as his plane went in and crashed by a bridge. Even though I didn't have a personal reason in this war to begin with, I told myself that I was going to find every single one of those Strigon pilots and end them. It didn't matter who they were or what their reason was for invading Emmeria, I was going to kill them all. It wasn't just me who felt this way; it was everyone in the squadron. They had all left behind their friends and family and we were all running for our lives. Given what I knew about the layout of the Emmerian continent, the Estovakians would have attacked several key positions which involved several key cities and a couple of fortresses. With these factors in mind, it was going to take several months before the Emmerians were able to reclaim their city. Regardless of what was going to happen, every single one of those Emmerian pilots was going to fight like hell to make it back home.


	4. Birth of a Legend

**Chapter 3 – Birth of a Legend**

 **Sunday, August 30, 2015 1224hrs, Vitoze, Emmeria**

All planes from Gracemeria flew west towards Campagna Airport which was located on Khesed Island. This base was the only operational airfield available to the retreating Emmerian forces and would be the staging area for the Emmerian counter attack when the time came. It was a quaint looking city located in a valley and the airport didn't look like it was used a lot, but today would be the busiest day it's ever seen. Shamrock and I were the last ones to land and all the pilots who survived the Gracemeria attack had gathered on the flight line. I sighed to myself as I shut off the engines and popped the canopy. My wife was still sitting in her seat while she silently wept over the loss of everyone. I climbed out of my seat and knelt down beside her so that I could take off her flight helmet. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and I held out my hand so that I could help her onto the ground. When we were finally there, I grabbed her and hugged her tightly so that she could cry without anyone seeing.

"Colonel," said a voice from my left. When I looked to see who it was, I saw a man who was a few years older than me. He was a pretty well-built man with brown hair and eyes. If anything, I'd describe him as the popular looking guy from high school. My wife looked at him too and we didn't know who the hell he was. "Sorry for the poor timing, but I thought it was time to formally introduce myself. My name is Lieutenant Marcus Lampert and I'll be your wingman from now on."

"Shamrock," I said in confirmation and he held out his hand. I released my wife and I shook his hand. "Thanks for having our backs out there."

Shamrock nodded and the three of us turned to look at the other pilots on the flight line. They were looking to me with cheer and awe in their eyes. They all just stood frozen in place until I began walking towards them. A bunch of them began to cheer while a few of them just looked at them like they were a bunch of idiots. Some of the lower ranked pilots ran up to pat me on the back. As soon as the first pilot reached out towards me, I put him in a wrist lock and threw him to the ground. Everyone froze and looked at me in shock as I glared at them.

"I want you to take a good look around you and think of the people who aren't here," I yelled. "If you think for one second that shooting down an enemy plane is cause for celebration, then you people are delusional. You just abandoned your city, your friends, and your families. So what the hell are you cheering for?!"

"Sir, we kicked ass out there! We shouldn't be standing here if we want to get our city back!" shouted one of the pilots.

"Yeah, if it weren't for those cruise missiles, we would've had the Stovies running with their tails between their legs!"

"So what the hell are we standing around for? Let's get out there and kick their asses!" Everyone began cheering and they all began hyping themselves up. When I looked back at Shamrock, I could tell that he wanted to follow their lead. It wasn't long before all of them calmed down enough and laid their eyes on me. "So what's it gonna be, sir? Are you going to help us, or are you going to run back to Osea so that you can hide from this fight?"

"Fuck you," I growled. "If you want to go out there blind and get yourselves killed, be my guest. At least I'll know that coming here to train your sorry asses was a waste of my time. But if you think I'm just going to run back to my country, then you're even dumber than I originally thought."

"So why don't you come with us?"

"What would that accomplish?" I asked and everyone fell silent. "We have a limited amount of fuel and ammo, we have no idea what the enemy strategy is, and we have no idea where those cruise missiles came from. So tell me, where do you plan on going first?" No one said anything and I could tell that they knew I had a point. "Look to the people standing next to you… They're all you have left and they're the ones who're gonna help you get back home."

"Colonel," said Shamrock and I turned to look at him, "This isn't the first war you've flown in, is it?"

"No, it's not," I told him and everyone's interest was on me. "None of you need to know what I did in any of my past sorties, but I will tell you this. Do not fight with the expectation that we will all have a happy ending when this is over. As combat aviators, we have the lives of numerous people depending on us. Don't ever forget that."

After I was done talking I headed off towards a hangar so that I could isolate myself from everyone. My wife quickly caught up and placed her hand on my shoulder which stopped me dead in my tracks. I knew she was worried about me. I let out a heavy sigh before I placed my hand on hers and gently patted it. She understood right away how I was feeling, and she let her hand slip off my shoulder as I walked away. After what we all just endured, I figured that it was best if I took some time to be alone. I found a spot between the primary hangars to just sit and think. I took off my flight gear, and put it back in my MS. As I was about to shut it off, I remembered that I had General Harkin's journal in there, and I pulled it out. I began to wonder why I held off on reading it. Maybe it was because I was living such a happy and calm life with my wife that I didn't need the thought of war to bother me. But seeing as how I was caught up in another conflict, I figured that maybe I could use some of his young wisdom.

 _Sunday, April 2, 1995 1224hrs, Valais Air Force Base, Ustio_

 _Ever since I got to this base, everyone treated me with this mild neglect, kinda like a stray dog or unwelcome guest. The guy I replaced was Galm 1 and he was one of the best pilots they had. But with him gone, I was next in line to claim that title. No one really cared, not even that Pixy guy, but I was thrilled to finally be here. Moral on the base was low, but my presence there wasn't making things any better. The Ustian military was on its last leg. And if things didn't change soon, they were going to lose the war. It wasn't that I really cared because Belka only wanted their land back from the countries that seceded from them. If Belka did manage to retake their land, it was no skin off my bones. I could just go back to Osea without any consequences._

* * *

The only thing that sucked about being stationed at Valais was the damn cold. I could deal with the isolation and lack of civilization out here because I had my guitar, CD player, and music collection with me. Anyways, I was working out in my room with my music blaring when I heard an announcement over the PA system calling for all pilots to report to the briefing room ASAP. There was a commotion in the hallway and I opened my door to see all the pilots running towards the briefing room. I put on my t-shirt and untied the top half of my flight suit around my waist so that I could put it on and followed them.

When we got there, the base commander began the briefing. Our early warning radar detected several bombers headed to attack the base along with numerous fighter escorts. With Valais being the last line of defense for Ustio, they couldn't afford to lose this battle. If anything, I wanted to at least bag a couple kills for myself so that I could get my thrill for the first time. After we got done with our briefing, we ran towards the hangars and saw the ground crews arming our planes. Pixy and I were armed with four sidewinders and four AMRAAMs each. I also had my gun, but it wasn't something I could rely on because of the fact that it ate ammo like Perrault ate a diabetic's kryptonite. Anyways, as I climbed into my cockpit, I noticed the emblem that was on my plane's vertical stabilizer. It was the head of a red dog that was biting through a chain.

 _When I saw this emblem, I thought it was rather fitting due to the fact that I was a US Marine, a.k.a. Devil Dog, and I just realized that the abbreviated squadron ID was 666. It still bothered me though. I have this gut feeling that this identity is going to follow me for a long time._

Settle towed my plane onto the flight line before I fired up my engines and taxied onto the runway. As soon as I got there, I throttled up and took off with Pixy flying off my wing. Three other pilots came up with us, but I didn't care too much to remember their names. They were lagging behind and I went on ahead with Pixy.

"It's starting to come down," said Pixy referring to an incoming snow storm.

"This is Base Command, guess all you boys managed to get up. Galm 1, Galm2, maintain present course."

"Galm 1, roger," I said.

"This is Galm 2, roger that."

"Bearing 315, Belkan bombers approaching," said our AWACS.

"Nobody wants to bail out over a mountain of ice. We're counting on you, flight leader," said Pixy to me. I had forgotten that the guy I replaced used to be the Captain of all the pilots here since he was the only one with military training. Since I was the only other military trained pilot here, I was put in command of everyone.

"All units prepare to intercept," said Base Command.

"You'd better have our pay ready and waiting," said Pixy.

"That's only if we make it through this alive," I replied as I put on my oxygen mask.

"Be ready to pay up. We'll be back before you know it."

"Galm Team, shoot down all incoming bombers. Don't let them get to our base," said Base Command. _You say that as if that wasn't obvious enough._ "Galm 2, follow all orders from Galm 1. Free engagement is prohibited during this operation."

I could feel Pixy looking at me as I continued to keep my focus towards our objective and I could tell that he was wary of me. But seeing as I was now his flight lead, he had to follow my order. "Cipher, I've heard stories about you. They say you've got what it takes to win."

"Well today you're going to see that they're true," I said as I hit the afterburners and sped on ahead. It wasn't long before I saw multiple bogies on my radar with no IFF response. The first enemy I saw was an F-5. Compared to my plane, it was nowhere near as fast, but it was a hell of a lot more maneuverable. Whether or not this asshole could fly or not remained to be seen. I came in fast from his three o' clock and I was pulling the right amount of lead on him for a gun run. The dumb bastard just looked at me as I opened up on him with my gun and he flew through my stream. His plane blew up and I quickly rolled under the wreckage to turn after the bombers. "Well, that was easy."

"Let's get this job over with and suck up a little hot whiskey," said one of the other Ustian pilots.

I smiled at that guy's remark because I could've used something good to drink for once, but we had to deal with this Belkan problem first. The next plane I got within range to target was another F-5, but Pixy swooped in and shot him down before I could. The next group of targets I saw was the bombers and I was surprised to see that they were B-52s due to the fact that I thought Osea was the only country to operate them. With my shock short lived, I turned my focus back onto the bombers so that I could launch a sidewinder at the lead bomber. He tried launching his counter measures, but the missile's detonation managed to tear off its wing.

"Enemy down, courtesy of Galm 1!" boasted one of the allied pilots.

I felt my pride grow a little and I quickly fell in behind the second bomber of the pair so that I could fire my gun into its tail section, rendering it useless. The bomber began to Dutch roll and it wasn't long before it went into a flat spin into the mountains. With those guys out of the way we proceeded towards the next pair of bomber only to see that they had only two escort fighters protecting them. Both of them were headed straight for me and I didn't feel like bothering with them.

"Pixy, you're weapons free. Watch my back while I go after those bombers," I ordered and he acknowledged.

Pixy sped on ahead and fired his AMRAAMs at the two fighters and I was able to engage the bombers with no problems. They went down easier than the first two and I went on to engage the next group of bombers. However, my master caution began to blare which meant that I was being targeted by an enemy fighter. I quickly deployed my counter measures and I looked behind me to see a Saab 35 trailing me pretty aggressively. I pulled my airbrake and rolled to throw off the pilot's aim and he tried to match my maneuver by rolling as well, but he over shot. The pilot tried to pull into a climb and I snapped out a burst from my gun to try and hit him, but I failed to lead him properly and he continued to climb. We were around seven thousand feet when he rolled over into a dive and I tried going for a missile lock. I held my fire because I knew that my missile wouldn't track him properly with me being in lag pursuit. The pilot knew this and rolled to bleed off some more airspeed so that I was drawn in closer. Soon enough, I was flying off his left wing and I could see him looking back at me. While we exchanged looks with each other, I noticed the victory marks on the side of his cockpit. He had twelve kills to his credit and it surprised the hell out of me to see that he was an Ace.

Even though I knew this guy was trying to kill me, I couldn't help but smile at him and I could almost see him smiling at me as well. I wanted this guy to show me how good of a pilot he was flying in something as old as that Draken of his. There was this fleeting feeling going through my mind and I couldn't describe it. All I knew was that it felt good and that it was also the greatest thrill I've ever experienced in my life. _The thought of death hadn't even occurred to me because I thought that it was irrelevant. Nobody here cared if I lived or died so worrying about my life seemed kind of pointless. I don't know how this man felt, but I really didn't care._

I over shot the enemy pilot and I pulled a hard right turn once I leveled out so that I could spoil his shot. Since I knew he was an Ace, I figured that he'd try something to get back on my tail. The pilot kept pulling the turn with me while he climbed and rolled over to the right so that he could perform a high yo-yo for a better angle. I countered him by snapping a roll to the left and throttling back so that we were now in a rolling scissors. It only took one roll for him to get a bead on me and snapped a burst from his gun. He managed to hit my right wing and I responded by pulling the airbrake so that the enemy pilot overshot. I retracted the brake and rolled over into a dive after him. We were now hugging the deck and there was nowhere for the pilot to run. He tried rolling back into position behind me a couple more times before he lost too much speed and I seized the opportunity to pounce. My bullets ripped off his right wing and sent him spiraling into the mountains. There was no way that he survived that crash.

With that pilot out of the way, I made my way back to the bomber formation. When I looked at my radar, I noticed that a good number of enemy IFF signatures were gone. Pixy's was going all over the place and realized that he was the one doing most of the work. _Seeing the fruits of Pixy's labor really bugged me for some reason. I never really had the opportunity to see just how good I was in a fight and I almost became jealous over the fact that he had a higher kill record than me. Something in me wanted to beat him, but I had to focus on my mission first._

I continued to hug the deck until I was directly under the next group of bombers. Once I was in position, I pulled into a climb and locked onto two of the bombers and two of the fighters with my AMRAAMs. All of my missiles flew towards their targets and blew them all to hell. One of remaining bombers in the formation broke off from the remaining formation to head northeast.

"One of the bombers has left the battlefront. He must've chickened out," said an ally.

"Why would he leave after getting this far?" asked Pixy.

"He probably had mechanical trouble. It's S.O.P. for any military plane to leave the battle if something goes wrong," I told them.

No one seemed to care about what I told them and I shrugged it off as I continued to engage the enemy planes. I took out the last bomber of the group by filling his wing full of holes until it caught fire and broke off. There were only two bombers left and I quickly moved in to intercept them.

"Base Command, I mopped up those remaining escort planes. Continuing on to enemy bomber," said Pixy.

"Like hell you are," I said as I hit the afterburners.

I was still a good ways away from the last two bombers and I wasn't sure if Pixy still had any AMRAAMs left. Whatever the case was, I quickly got a visual on the last two bombers which turned out to be Bm-335s. I'd never seen bombers like this before and I guess they were an original design. I didn't gawk at them for long because I climbed above them and dove on the trailing plane from behind so that I could launch my last pair of sidewinders at it. As soon as they went off the rail, I turned to go after the lead plane and tried to line the cockpit in my gunsight, but I didn't have enough time and I blindly fired my gun into the bottom section of the fuselage. The next thing I knew, I was engulfed in a cloud of black smoke and fire as I flew through the wreckage. Debris struck my plane from every direction until I made it through the cloud of smoke and the oil began to part from my canopy. None of my alarms were going off and I checked myself to make sure I was still in one piece as I leveled out and headed back to Valais.

"Base Command to Galm Team, the enemy attack unit has been successfully intercepted. I'd like to see how to Belkan cowards report back to their superiors."

"Cipher, I got a feeling you and me are gonna get along just fine," said Pixy as he fell into formation off my left wing. "…buddy."

I was still pretty bitter over the fact that Pixy got more kills than I did as we headed back to base and landed. Pixy was welcomed with a standing ovation while I was just shrugged at. But as I was walking towards my locker to put away my flight gear, Settle stopped me by standing in the doorway.

"Uh-huh, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me," I said smugly.

"I was hoping you'd be missing a limb when you got back, but I guess there's always next time," she shrugged. "You know, you just might have the makings of a fine mercenary if you keep it up out there."

"Is that all you wanted to say?"

"Not really. You've made quiet the impression on everyone today by shooting down that ace. None of the other pilots have been able to bag one, not even Pixy. If this keeps up, you're going to gain a lot of unwanted attention from everyone."

"Is that a threat?"

"Just some words to live by out here," said Settle. "The Belkans pride themselves on having the most elite pilots in the world. What do you think's going to happen if you rob them of that fact?"

I didn't say anything in response and Settle left to go work on our planes. The more I spoke to this woman, the more I just wanted to punch her in her taint. She did make me feel a little better by telling me that I did something that no one else here was able to accomplish and that feeling was going to stick with me for a good while. That wasn't the only thing though. When I did my debriefing, I was handed a check for eleven and a half grand. I knew I'd be getting paid for this job, but I didn't think I'd be making this much. I thought about keeping all of it, but then I began to realize that there was nothing here for me to spend my money on. This was until I found out that everyone here modified their planes. A couple of pilots began talking about it while they drank their whiskey. If that was the case, then I wanted to make a few modifications to my Eagle.

* * *

 _My first taste of actual, modern, aerial combat left me wanting more. I had only flown in one other war, but it wasn't anything as thrilling as what I experienced today. It left me only wanting more for some reason and I can't wait for my next mission with this group._

I closed General Harkin's journal and sighed to myself thinking that I was an idiot for thinking that he'd know what the hell he was talking about when he went to war. But then again I was like that when I went on my first combat mission. The exhilaration of the fight was extremely brief before I became overwhelmed with stress and anxiety as the situation continued to escalate. Each sortie after that wasn't any easier and this war wasn't going to make it any better.

I leaned back against the wall I was sitting against and closed my eyes so that I could gather my thoughts. My moment of peace didn't last long because an alarm began blaring and I quickly got to my feet so that I could run back to the light line. A number of pilots were already gathered there and I found Shamrock standing there as well.

"What's going on," I asked him.

"More allied planes are falling back here until we can reorganize ourselves. These guys are supposed to be coming from a different area from where we were stationed and they've suffered a lot more casualties than we did."

We continued to look over towards the horizon over the mountains, hoping to see some sign of our allies. The first sign we got from them were the sounds of their engines. Soon after that, we saw four planes trailing black smoke accompanied by six other planes as well. All of the damaged planes landed first and they were followed by the undamaged ones. The last plane to come in was an F-15E and it wasn't until it got closer that we all notice it was shot to hell. There were numerous holes in the fuselage, control surfaces were missing, and the pilot was struggling to maintain control as they brought it down. My wife suddenly ran up to stand beside me and tightly held my hand as we continued to watch.

The F-15 was coming in too fast and we all knew that he wouldn't be able to slow down if the pilot wanted to maintain control. The pilot touched down as softly as he could, but the tires on his front wheels blew. The Eagle was slowing down quickly, but the front landing gear collapsed and the plane's nose violently hit the ground. Landings like this were more common than not, but this one looked pretty bad. Fire and EMS crews sped towards the Eagle to check if everyone was alright. I pulled out my binoculars from my MS and began to scan the scene for anything abnormal. The pilot was being pulled out of cockpit and I saw that it was a woman when the medic pulled off her flight helmet. She was bleeding heavily from a wound in her abdomen and her face was extremely pale. The medics hung their head in disappointment and it didn't become clear until I saw the WSO got out to run up alongside her. The medics were trying to hold him back and I deduced that the pilot was dead.

"Poor bastard," muttered one of the Emmerian pilots.

"You think he's gonna wanna fly again?"

"I don't blame him if he quits."

The bond between a pilot and WSO was almost an unbreakable one, especially if they were great friends. I knew this from experience and I never fully got over it. It was also the reason I didn't want to fly with my wife, but there was nothing that I could do at this point.

The pilots that just landed came over to join us and already they began talking with our group about what they experienced. According to them, the Estovakians had devastated their fighter group of over fifty pilots. They also told us that their casualties were largely due to as what they described as a couple of aerial battleships. None of their attacks were able to damage the crafts because their missiles wouldn't track properly and the enemy defenses were too thick to get anywhere near them. Hearing the news from the other fronts didn't make us feel any better.

As the day continued, more allied planes came in and it wasn't long before we had over two hundred air crews here. They included everything from single seat fighters to transport and bomber crews. If we were going to be attacked, we'd be up a creek. Once the brass arrived at Campagna, we all gathered on the flight line so that a General could tell us what was going to happen over the next month.

The Emmerian forces were going to regroup on Khesed Island so that the Estovakians would have to move their forces across Anea. They wouldn't have the means to invade the island if they wanted to occupy more strategic positions before beginning their final push on us. In the meantime, the remaining members of the 4th Fighter Squadron of the 3rd Air Division, the pilots that came in after the Gracemeria detachment, were going to merge into the 8th Air Division. We were going to stay at Vitoze while the others were going to be stationed at other bases across Khesed, but not everyone was happy about it. Almost everyone in my group wanted to be stationed closer to the action so that they could fight the Estovakians sooner. Anyways, we had to consolidate our equipment to see what we could effectively trade with each other. The one thing we did manage to get was that F-15 that crash landed and we also got the WSO who flew it. When the brass put it like that, I actually felt bad for the guy.

Me, my wife, and Shamrock all went looking for him and found him waiting by a transport plane next to a metal casket with the Emmerian flag draped over it. He was a pretty serious looking black man with a thin mustache and bald head. He reminded me a lot of that guy who played the bird-man from that one movie about the Super Patriot who used a shield. Anyway, his rank was that of a Lt. Commander, but I couldn't see his name tape on his flight suit, which made it difficult for me to think of a way to start a conversation. But seeing as how his partner had just died, I knew I had to bring it up.

"It's never easy seeing someone you know die," I said as we stood behind him. The man lowered his head and nodded in agreement. "How long have you two flown together," I asked.

"Just a little over ten years," he said as he tried to collect himself. It was obvious that he was crying, but I wanted to know more about him. "She was the first and only pilot I flew with. We went through flight school and every deployment together. Never in my life did I think that this day would come."

"We never do see these days coming," said my wife softly. "That's why we try to live each day to their fullest."

The Lt. Commander wiped his eyes before he turned to look at the three of us and he quickly snapped to attention once he saw my rank. "At ease, Commander, I know this isn't easy for you."

"It's alright, Colonel, I just want to make the bastards who did this pay. Lt. Commander Chase 'Totem' Jackson, at your service," he said with a salute.

"Don't salute me again or I'll leave you standing there," I said as I saluted him back. "Anyways, we're here to talk to you about the merging of our squadron and what means for you."

"I'm probably going to be used as copilot for one of the transport planes here."

"I had a better idea. My wingman here needs a better ship if he wants to effectively watch my back while we're trying to take back your country," I said and he looked at me suspiciously.

"What are you trying to say, sir?" asked Jackson.

"I'm gonna need your Eagle."

"Sir, I understand that you need planes, but there's no way in hell that I'm just going to hand my pilot's bird over to someone I just met."

"As much as I understand your position, you really don't have a choice."

"Yes, I do, Colonel! I'm not going to let any other crew fly mine and my pilot's plane!"

I looked at my wife who pinched the bridge of her nose before she looked back at me. I then looked at Shamrock and he could only shrug because he had no idea how to convince him. My wife gave me another look and I nodded at her before I looked back at Jackson who kept looking at us, wondering what we were thinking.

"Jackson, I'm going to be as straight forward as I can with you because I'm really not in the mood to bitch over government property that you think you own," began my wife. "We know it isn't easy losing friends. Hell, we just lost a couple today as well. Not only that, we had to watch numerous people leave their families to the mercy of an invading force that we saw bombing civilians. Colonel Driver and Lieutenant Lampert are pretty skilled as a team, but they're going to need every edge that they can get if they're going to make a bigger impact on the enemy forces. The only reason he needs your plane is so that Lt. Lampert can get back to his family in Gracemeria as soon as possible. Would your partner really say no to something like that?"

"Don't assume you knew her," growled Jackson.

"You're right, I don't know her. She must've been pretty special for you to refuse our request to use your plane, but you're not the only one who lost someone special. If you want to avenge them, let us use your plane and we'll get everyone home as fast as we can," pleaded my wife.

Jackson paused and thought about what my wife said. If anything, I thought it was a pretty lazy argument, but my wife did have a charming personality. Jackson sighed and looked over at his partner's casket before he walked over and placed his hand on it one last time.

"… if you can fix her, she's all yours," said Jackson softly before he turned to look at us. "But just so you know it's going to take a lot if you want to make her airworthy again."

"Relax, I know a guy. Just be sure you're ready to get back to work once she's ready," I said smugly. Jackson gave us one last confused look before we headed out, but I quickly turned around to talk to Shamrock. "Lampert, I'm making him your WSO."

"Wait, what?" he quietly exclaimed.

"If you're going to continue flying as my wingman, you won't be able to do it as effectively in a Falcon. That's the whole reason I needed his plane so that you could operate it with him."

"But Colonel, I've never flown an Eagle before."

"Then I guess it's a good thing the enemy is too far away to snuff us out for now. I don't like the situation we've been thrown into, Lieutenant, but war does that to you. Sometimes you have to take what you can get. If that doesn't motivate you to try and learn to fly that bird, do it for your family instead," I said and he looked away from me like he was defeated. "Listen, I know I'm coming off as a huge asshole. But if you want to get back to Gracemeria as fast as possible, you're going to have to trust me, oaky?"

"I understand, sir," Shamrock sighed.

"Great, get to know your WSO. One more thing, don't call me 'sir'. I'm only twenty-seven," I said and I patted his shoulder as me and my wife walked past him to leave the hangar.

"It's strange seeing you like this," said my wife.

"Like what," I asked.

"You know; being in charge, barking out order, and getting stuff done. I've never seen you like this before."

"Why do I get the feeling you like it?"

"Shut up!"

"Oh my God, you freak," I laughed and my wife jabbed me in my arm pretty hard.

We continued walking down the flight line until we came upon Jackson's F-15. It was still in one piece, but it was heavily damaged. A good portion of the left vertical stabilizer was missing and there was a large hole in the right elevator. The right wing was torn to hell and fluids were leaking from numerous holes around the engines. The weapon pylons were damaged beyond repair and the pilot's seat was heavily damaged by shrapnel from large caliber bullets.

"Do you think 'he' can fix it?" asked my wife.

"I haven't ever heard him say he couldn't fix something," I smiled as I pulled out my cell phone from my MS and dial a number. "Director, it's me. Listen, how soon can you get Rico over here?"


	5. Waking the Demon

**Chapter 4 – Waking the Demon**

 **Friday, September 4, 2015 1156hrs, Vitoze, Emmeria**

The past week has been nothing but hell for the Emmerian military. The remnants of their military were falling back to Western most territory of Emmeria, Khesed Island. Things weren't easy for the pilots though. We were sent off to different areas of the continent to provide top cover for the retreating forces and escort duty for some of the retreating transport planes. These hops were always uneventful, which was fine by me. Marcus had to tag along in his F-16 because Chase's F-15 wasn't up to snuff. We had to wait for the supply lines to reach us if anyone was going to fix that bird. Apart from that, we heard that Emmeria gave up control of several of their key bases and that the Estovakians were already in the process of occupying them. Moral on the base was low enough as it was and no one really had anyway of cheering up. My wife, Marcus, and Lt. Commander Jackson were sitting in the hangar while I finished up a phone call with Director Abrams.

"He should be there later on in the day with the supplies you need," said the Director. "One more thing, he's going to be stationed with you for the remainder of this operation. I'm taking a big risk with this, so please don't let me down."

"Understood, ma'am," I said and I hung up my phone. I turned to head back towards the hangar to join the others and they all looked at me in the hopes that I'd be able to give them some good news. I told them that Chase's plane was going to be repaired by tomorrow morning.

"That seems highly unrealistic, Colonel," said Marcus.

"No, it'll get done before we have to be on deck," my wife said.

"Your people must be a pretty skilled crew," said Chase.

"You could say that. Anyways, once we get your plane up and running, I'm going to be putting you through some pretty intense flying," I told Marcus and Chase.

"How good of a pilot is he, Sham?" asked Chase, but Marcus just shrugged.

"I was at the top of the list of recommended pilots to train the pilots stationed at Gracemeria," I said. "If you want more proof, ask Commander Pollini about the training I subjected everyone to."

"Your training couldn't be that tough, could it?" asked Chase.

"…Lt. Commander, I think you just stepped on a landmine," muttered Marcus.

"Lt. Commander Jackson, we're going to show you just how difficult our training is," said my wife. Chase looked like he knew he screwed up and my wife began barking out orders to him and Marcus. I just stood by and observed in silence. My wife had them doing push-ups, squats, jumping jacks, and high knees. She had them doing this for fifteen minutes until Chance and Marcus were both winded. "I don't know why you're both lying down, we're not done yet you two."

"What are you gonna make us do next, a five mile hike?" asked Chance sarcastically.

"No, don't be ridiculous," said my wife and Chase breathed a sigh of relief. "We're going for a ten mile hike. You have ten minutes to get your gear on and report back here."

Chase and Marcus both gave her an exasperated look before they ran to put their flight gear on. When they got back, my wife and I had already put on our combat gear instead of our flight gear. We both got sideways looks from them and I just smiled in excitement. My wife ordered them to follow her while I brought up the rear and we began running. We took both of them to the west side of the base where we continued up a path into the woods.

* * *

It was nice to get out of the base for a little while since all we've been doing was sitting alert and going off on escort sorties. Being dressed in my combat gear for the first time in over a year felt great too, but I think I was enjoying it a bit too much. Normally I'd never have my weapon loaded, but considering that we had no knowledge of the wildlife and that we were now in a full on war, it was better to be safe than sorry. Apart from that, I was keeping a close eye on my husband while we were going through the woods because of what happened to him in Estovakia. He would give me thumbs up to let me know that he was okay and we would continue on with the hike. Marcus and Chase were becoming tired and annoyed the longer we ran and it was kind of amusing to see them like this. Marcus had only been on one of these rucks while we were in Gracemeria, but it was obvious Chase had never done anything like this before.

We were nearing the final mile of our hike when I began to hear thunder off in the distance. Storm clouds were coming in from the south and it didn't look like we were going to beat the rain. Even so, I led us through the woods when it began to pour. I usually hated the rain, but I grew to like the sound of it the longer I spent with my husband. However, I noticed that he began acting strange when it began raining. The look in his eye told me that he was reliving the day General Harkin died. My husband was now sprinting down the trail and it wasn't long before he passed Marcus and Chase. They were shocked to see him running as fast as he could despite the distance we already ran. When he was about to pass me, I reached out and grabbed his vest only to be tossed to the ground so that he could continue running.

"Colonel Yamada," Chase called out.

"I'm okay, just head back to the base, I'll handle him," I called back as I activated my MS and threw them a couple of ponchos.

I place my rifle into my MS so that it wouldn't slow me down while I ran. As I ran, the rain and the forest made me feel like there was this air of hopelessness around me. This was how I was beginning to feel the longer I ran after my husband. It took about two minutes to finally catch up to him, but there was no sign of him slowing down. I couldn't remember the last time I've seen him run this fast. By the time I finally caught up to him, I had to jump and tackle my husband to the ground where we struggled for a bit. My husband rolled over onto his back and he tried to hit me with the butt of his rifle. I deflected his attack and caught his arm so that I could pin him against the ground while I cupped his cheek in my hand.

"It's okay; everything's going to be alright, I'm right here!" I said as I forced him to look at me.

He was having another PTSD episode and I could tell that our hike was what triggered him. Even after a year of living with the memory of what happened during his mission in Estovakia, he still hadn't fully recovered. The look of sorrow in his eye told me that he still blamed himself for General Harkin's death and the loss of everyone who tried to save him. If he only knew the half of what I've been through before we got married, I'd be able to relate to him better. My husband calmed down enough for me to let him go and I pulled him in for a hug while the rain continued to fall around us. When he finally recovered, I held his hand the rest of the way towards the hangar where Marcus and Chase were talking to Commander Pollini and a few other people. When they turned around, I noticed that several of them were a couple of pilots that came in with Chase the other day. The last person to turn around was a lanky looking Hispanic guy with spikey hair and a goofy smile.

"Well, if it isn't the second best couple of customers I've had the pleasure of dealing with," he said in a sarcastic manner.

"You know you love us, Rico," said my husband as he moved in to shake his hand. "How's it going?"

"Shit, if I knew I was going to have to take care of your ass again, I would've retired by now," said Rico.

"It could be worse. You could be taking care of Antonio Castillo's plane," I said sarcastically.

"At least that foo' knew how to fly, unlike you, Colonel Driver," he replied equally sarcastic.

"Wait, you knew Antonio Castillo?" one of the pilots asked Rico.

"Who's Antonio Castillo?" asked another.

"He was the leader of the Sand Island Squadron during the Circum-Pacific war. Rumor had it that he was also the flight lead for the Ghost of Razgriz after him and his crew was killed."

"Sergeant Major Quezada, is that really true?"

"I don't know about all that, but I knew the guy before he died," said Rico.

"What was he like?"

"He was an asshole! Every time he came back from a mission, I'd spend hours trying to fix his plane from all the damage he took. It was because of him that I had to keep looking over my shoulder so that I wouldn't fall for his shenanigans."

"Tell them about the time he dyed your hair purple," grinned my husband.

"Colonel, you knew Castillo too?" asked Marcus.

"Yeah, I had the hots for his wife, but I settled for the next best thing," he replied to which he was met with my fist running into his jaw.

"A bit jealous of your former competition, are we, Colonel Yamada?" teased Chase.

"Do you want to go for another run?" I glared as I cracked my knuckles.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said as he looked at my husband who was lying unconscious on the ground. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"I'll take care of him," I said.

"Anyways, Colonel, why did you drag me out here to the lovely country of Emmeria?" asked Rico. I pointed to Chase's heavily damaged F-15. "Jeez, I thought you said you were going to take care of Avia when you came here!"

"Avia's over there," I said as I pointed out our plane. "This is Lt. Commander Jackson's plane and it was shot to hell when he and his pilot stayed back to cover the retreating Emmerian forces. Show a little bit of respect when you fix her bird up, Rico."

"Well what else am I if I'm not a gentleman, Colonel. Anyways, I'll have her ready to go by tomorrow morning," said Rico and began stretching.

 **2321hrs**

I woke up in mine and my wife's bed in our cottage. We were still on the base, but the surrounding area of the city wasn't as populated as I thought it'd be when we first got here and we found out that there were a bunch of small cottages that we could rent. The place me and my wife got was way smaller than our house in Emmeria. Anyways, my wife was curled up next to me in bed, which I sorta resented because she knocked me out for making a joke that had absolutely no meaning behind it. Anyways, I gently got up and tried not to wake her up, but I felt her hand on my shoulder. I looked back at her and smiled before I gently patted her hand so that she knew I was alright. She let go of me and I headed into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich and a glass of water before I sat on the couch in the living room. Once I was settled, I activated my MS so that I could read another passage from General Harkin's journal. After the nervous breakdown I had today, I figured that I should do my best to understand the man I let down.

 _Friday, April 14, 1995 2024hrs, Valais Air Force Base, Ustio_

 _I'm bored out of my goddamn mind right now. Since there's nothing to do around here, I figured that I should just write whatever the hell is on my mind. I've spent the last couple of weeks hold up in my room because no one still wanted anything to do with me. I figured that I'd at least make an impression on someone here since I shot down a Belkan ace, which nobody has been able to do, but they wouldn't give me the time of day. I thought flirting with Settle would've been easier, but she nearly dropped a dime on me the other day so I knew I couldn't push my luck. Damn, this blows. I started talking to myself in the mirror the other day and it freaked me out when I realized that I had spent all day doing it. Today was no different and I started writing the moment I realized I was talking to myself again._

* * *

This isolation was really starting to do a number on me. I thought being bored wouldn't have been a problem, but I guess I was wrong. Writing was one of the few other things that I could do to take my mind off of everything, I didn't think that I'd be in my room this much considering that this entire base was Ustio's last line of defense. I thought we'd be sent off to the frontlines because of that, but here I was, sitting idle. I was about to go and do a lap around the base, but one of the base's orderlies met me at the door to my room to tell me that we had a mission briefing in half an hour. The orderly escorted me to the briefing room where I met up with the other pilots and essential personnel to go over our next mission that was scheduled for tomorrow.

The Ustian ground forces were going to make a push through the city of Arlon so that they could secure a supply line between the Ustian and Osean forces. In order to do this, the ground forces had to secure three bridges that were being guarded by Belkan Armored Corps. The mission seemed simple enough and I decided to head over to the hangar to inspect my bird before I hit the rack. When I got there, Settle was already tuning the engines and she noticed me right away.

"Are you sure you want to risk a sexual harassment allegation, Harkin?" she asked me.

"I thought about it, but I figured that I should spend that time with the only lovely lady who would give me the pleasure," I retorted.

"If you're talking about your plane, I don't think that she'd want to deal with you if she were human. Not with how you've been taking care of her."

"Blow me; I've taken better care of her than the grease monkeys did back in Osea."

"Then they must've been worse at their job than I thought," said Settle and she wiped her hand on her rag. "I found several cracks in the airframe that could've cost you your life if I hadn't found them sooner. I'm amazed that none of the hydraulics has given out yet. How has this thing not killed you yet?"

"Devil's luck, I guess," I shrugged. "Can you do anything about it?"

"I could, but I'd need the materials to do it."

"I thought you had the parts in stock."

"I do, but I don't work for free," said Settle and she rubbed her fingers in front of her face.

"The Ustians don't pay you?"

"They only pay me to maintain your planes, not repair them. Repairing them costs money, but I'm not spending mine to make sure you assholes live. That's your responsibility."

I groaned in frustration and ran my fingers through my hair when I was told this. "Alright, how much would it take to fix her up?" I asked to which Settle grinned.

"I'd need a hundred grand to get everything up to snuff."

"Come on, isn't there anything I could do to convince you to cut me some slack?"

"Is that one of your innuendoes?" Settle asked while raising an eyebrow.

I was about to make a smartass remark, but it was probably best if I didn't say anything. Chances were that she was going to file a complaint and I'd be sent home the day before my next mission. "How about a new customer discount," I asked. "I'm still new to this whole mercenary thing, so can you just go easy on me just this once? Please, Lauren."

Settle gave me somewhat of a shocked expression. I guess she'd never heard anyone tell her 'please' before and I could almost see her blushing. There was this awkward silence between us for a few seconds before Settle finally sighed and turned to look at my plane.

"I'll fix the airframe for ten," she said finally.

"Is there the slightest possibility you might go lower than that?"

"Don't push your luck," she growled and I sighed.

"Fine, where do I pay?" I asked.

"Don't worry about that. I'll talk to the accountant to get everything I need from you. I'll have your plane ready to go by tomorrow morning."

Since I had already taken a nap earlier and screwed up my internal clock, I decided to sit in the hangar and watch as Settle worked. As I was watching her, I noticed that she was the only mechanic in the hangar. The urge to talk to her was killing me, but I figured it'd be better not to. This was until I saw Pixy come in to check his plane. He didn't notice me until I got up and walked over to him as he climbed into his cockpit.

"Did you need something?" he grumbled.

"Nope, I'm just wondering how you ended up here," I asked.

"Need to know basis," he said.

"Okay, where you from?"

"That's classified."

"What do you do for fun around here?"

"That's none of your business."

"Why do you fly an F-15?"

"What's with all the questions?"

"I'm trying to find out if my wingman's gonna stab me in the back some time in the future. So far, that seems to be the case… buddy," I said as I dug a cigar out of my pocket and popped it into my mouth.

"You got any more of those?" asked Pixy.

"Yeah, but if you really want one, it's going to cost you," I said as I pulled out another one.

"Alright, I'll bite. What do you want?"

"Answer my last question," I said and Pixy glared at me.

"It's my favorite plane," he said bluntly and I tossed him the cigar. "That's it, you believe me?"

"I didn't say you had to be honestly," I said and I walked off.

I spent the rest of the night wandering around the base as I continued to puff on my cigar, but there was really nothing to do and no one to talk to. What made it unbearable was the temperature around here. I was used to hot environments where it was warm year-round, but this change in climate was just too sudden. Anyways, I slept in a chair near the hangar's entrance until it was time to get on deck. A quick shower and some breakfast was all I needed to get myself ready for this next hop. When I went back to the hangar, Settle had just finished working on my plane. She armed me with four sidewinder missiles and six 500lb bombs. She modified my plane so that I could carry bombs for this CAS mission and she also loaded my gun with armor-piercing explosive and tungsten ammo. My loadout was supposed to deal with every possible threat I could encounter on this mission, but I thought the Ustians would be more organized than this. Normally, pilot roles would be divided based on aircraft capabilities, but mine and Pixy's planes were both air superiority fighters that weren't meant to ground pound.

I was figuratively shaking my head the whole way towards our AO because we only had a total of five allied planes on this operation. They were responsible for providing top cover, but the number of enemy aircraft on my radar made me doubt that they were going to be of any use for long. On top of that, I had to worry about all of the ground targets that I was seeing as well. There were too many of them for me to hope of taking them all out in one trip, but it didn't matter to me anymore. I was happy to finally be flying again.

"This is AWACS Eagle Eye to Galm. The target is in formation along the highway. Commence the operation," he said.

"Keep an eye on us up there, AWCAS," said Pixy.

"Belkan ground forces are blocking off our transport route. Destroy them all."

I rolled my eyes at the both of them due to their useless banter as I came upon the first bridge. AA defenses were set up at the southern end of it and I broke off my run to avoid taking damage. I could see only two emplacements and they both turned their attention to Pixy who was going in after the first armored column at the north end of the bridge. It was easy enough for me to double back and strafe them so that we could commence our run on our primary targets, but Pixy got to them first.

"Those houses are probably full of Belkan supplies. Better not take any chances," he said as he pulled out of his run.

I referenced the houses he was talking about. The area surrounding them had AA defenses set up around them and I figured that he was right, but I felt myself hesitating a little. Even if this area was under enemy occupation, there were still civilians here and the last thing I wanted was for them to get caught in the crossfire. However, something drove me dive on the houses even while I was taking fire from the AA guns. My body was moving on its own like I had no control of it and I could feel myself trying to resist what I was doing, but it wasn't enough. I dropped a bomb in the middle of a cluster of houses and saw them fall from the resulting shockwave of the explosion. Guilt overwhelmed me for a split second because I noticed that I was being locked onto.

Two F-4 Phantoms were diving on me from my five o' clock high and I quickly broke into their attack so that their missiles failed to track. I was about to turn after them to engage in a dogfight, but then I remembered that I was over encumbered by my bombs. Instead of just jettisoning them, I quickly found the next group of targets at the end of the next bridge. The F-4s were circling back to come after me and I saw that my allies were tied up with their own targets except for Pixy. He was engaged with a MiG-21 that was sporting a custom paintjob and Pixy was on the ropes.

 _I was already fed up with how the Ustians ran their operations. Even if they didn't have the man power to send more allied forces, these missions could've been planned a hell of a lot better. But seeing as how we were outnumbered with no hope of friendly aid, I just had to pick up the slack for everyone else. I didn't outfly my superiors back in Osea only for me to die because of uneven odds._

I hit the afterburners and sped towards the next group of enemy tanks. There were only three of them, but it was all I needed to get rid of some of this dead weight. As soon as my bombing reticule was over the targets, I released a second bomb and pulled into a left bank with the Belkan Phantoms in tow. One of them tried going for another missile shot, but I snapped my plane over into a right bank when they launched their missile only for it to miss by a pretty wide margin. Both Belkans tried to follow my turn only to see that I had turned back towards them. I was able to cut inside their turn and I pre-fired my gun so that the lead plane flew into my stream. He was less than a hundred meters away when he crossed in front of me and I saw that I had severed his left wing. As soon as I flew by his wingman, I rolled under them and turned to give chase. The F-4 tried to run, but a sidewinder took care of him before he could get far. With those two out of the way, I figured that I should go help my wingman before that MiG-21 pilot embarrassed the crap out of him.

Every time Pixy went in to attack the MiG, the pilot would break into Pixy's attack at an extremely odd angle to spoil his shot. It didn't matter if Pixy was climbing, diving, or coming in from the same altitude, the Belkan pilot would find some way to avoid his attacks.

"Pixy, focus on those ground targets. Leave that guy to me," I said and Pixy hesitated before he broke off his engagement.

The MiG saw that Pixy was headed towards the Belkan tanks and turned to go after him. It wasn't until I got within missile range of the MiG that he broke off his attack to try and find me. He spotted me coming in from his five o' clock low and he broke into my attack by going into a diving right turn while I climbed up to meet him. The angle of deflection didn't give me enough time to line him up and I pulled the throttle back and deployed my air brake to dump my air speed so that I could keep the Belkan in my sights. He didn't expect me to do this and continued in his dive to try and get away, but this move only allowed me to fall into position on his tail. The MiG gunned his engine and tried to run, but the superior speed of my F-15 allowed me to keep pace with him as he flew all over the sky. Getting a missile lock on this guy was difficult and it took a while for me to actually get it. Once I had tone, the MiG pulled his airbrake and cut his throttle in the hopes that I'd overshoot. However, I reacted quickly and did the same thing. The heavier weight of my plane allowed me to slow down quickly enough to stay behind him, but it was also the reason I was going to stall first. I lowered my flaps to maintain lift at lower speed and the Belkan did the same thing, but his aircraft's design wouldn't allow him to maintain a low speed. He knew this and sped up only for him to fly into my gunsight. A long burst from my gun flew into his exhaust pipe and the plane exploded into a brilliant fireball that I rolled under so that I wouldn't get caught in the debris.

With that pilot out of the way, I began to look around to see if there were any other enemy planes in the area and I saw Pixy going after the ground targets like I told him to. The other three allied planes with us were going after the enemy planes and they were holding out for the most part, but then I saw two more Belkan planes with different paint schemes on their planes. One was an F-15E and another was a Mirage 2000. My allies were closer to them, but they both singled me out and began climbing up from my one o' clock low.

I began the engagement by breaking right, but I quickly reversed my turn when I realized that my maneuver would give them the perfect shot. 20mm traces flew by my canopy and my plane bucked from the impact of several bullets burying themselves into my right engine. My alarm began to go off and I noticed that I was losing oil pressure in my right engine. It wasn't bad, but I feared that it would be the reason I lost this fight if I didn't push my Eagle to the limit.

I went into a diving left turn while both pilots flew past me in a climbing left turn. They both took their turns too wide because of their loss of airspeed from their climb and they both transitioned into a diving left turn that I was able to cut inside when I followed after them. The Mirage was pulling tighter than the Eagle and I saw that the Eagle was at a lower altitude than the Mirage when I finally brought my nose around onto both enemy planes. The Mirage was closer, but I didn't have enough of a lead to shoot him down. The Eagle was farther away, but he had more speed than the Mirage which would be a huge advantage if he played it right. The Mirage rolled over into a diving right turn when I returned to level flight while the Eagle continued to climb. I snapped out a burst from my gun at the Mirage, but I missed. I was about to go after him, but then I remembered that the Eagle was still climbing. He would bounce me from above if I went after his friend, so I thought it'd be better if I dealt with him first. I got within missile range when the Eagle looped over and began to dive away, but the angle of deflection was too great. Instead, I used my gun to snap out another burst, but it missed.

The Eagle continued to dive and I shifted my focus back onto the Mirage, who I saw climbing so that he could loop over to reengage me. I had just completed a split S when the Mirage flew overhead after completing an Immelmann turn. Using the speed I gained from my split S, I pulled into a loop to get back onto the Mirage's tail. He had just completed a split S of his own and began to pull a hard right bank. I almost went after him again, but then I caught a glimpse of the Eagle pulling into a climb so that he could come after me. He quickly rolled over into a dive under me when he saw that I was coming. I rolled over into a dive as well and began to give chase as he pulled into a hard right turn before reversing to the left. This was when I noticed that the Mirage was coming towards me from my twelve o' clock high, but he didn't have a clean shot and passed overhead. I quickly reengaged him and pulled a high yo-yo so that I could get into position while he tried to turn hard left. The Eagle had managed to turn into me, but couldn't get a shot as well. His distraction was enough for me to miss the Mirage when he pulled into a hard right turn.

The three of us were now on the deck and I had to pull an extremely high G right turn to stay in trail on the Mirage. When he saw that I was beginning to pull lead, he pulled into a climbing right turn in desperation, but it was all I needed to pump him full of lead. The Mirage began trailing fire and began to head towards the ground. I didn't see him crash because the Eagle was now coming at me from head on after he came out of a sharp left turn. I continued to hold my right turn when he passed me and I saw that he reversed his direction to try and get away, but I began to pull lead on him as well. However, the angle of defection that he gave me was too great and he slipped by unharmed. When the Eagle passed me, he broke hard left to try and escape again, but I maneuvered with him so that I was now in perfect position on his tail.

We were still flying scant feet above the ground and the Eagle pilot tried to lure me into a scissor maneuver, but his fatal flaw was that he began to panic. He was still going full throttle while he turned and I was feathering my throttle to stay behind him. It didn't help that I was flying with a badly damaged engine, but I had to make due. The last maneuver the Belkan tried to pull when I was five hundred meters behind him was to do a wide barrel roll, but it gave me a perfect shot. I dumped another salvo from my gun into the Eagle's engine and it began belching black smoke. He tried holding a left bank, but another volley from my gun set him ablaze. The Belkan tried going into a climb, but I was amazed to see that he rolled upside down and dove into the ground. The crew couldn't get out in time and I quickly shut off my damaged engine before it gave out on me.

"Cipher just shot down a bandit," announced Pixy.

"That's how you fight two on one," I muttered. "How are those ground targets coming along?"

"They're almost gone, but I'm out of bombs. Things are gonna get tricky if reinforcements show up."

"Then let's strike while the iron's hot."

I headed towards the last group of enemies that popped up on my HUD and I headed in to destroy the remaining targets. It was easy enough to finish them off and we soon got the all clear from Eagle Eye. I even bagged myself another three planes before then. When Pixy formed up on my right wing I saw that he was pretty shot up.

"Operation complete; now the Allied forces can secure a military transport route. Well done Galm team. Looks like luck was on your side again today, Solo Wing," said Eagle Eye.

"Yeah, well, I've had my fill of goin' home without wings," said Pixy.

"How did that happen anyways?" I asked and Pixy gave me an annoyed look.

"My asshole of a flight lead ran into me and died in the process. He took my right wing with him and I had to fight like hell to keep my bird under control. Good thing I made a bet on how much damage I'd take during that mission."

"Shit, the only bet I ever made during a war was how many marbles could fit up a guy's nose," I replied and Pixy cringed while looking at me.

* * *

 _Getting Pixy to open up a little more was like accomplishing a damn milestone in life. We talked a little more when we made it back to Valais, but it really didn't help take my mind off of things. I'm still trying to figure out what the hell compelled me to destroy those houses. I don't know what's happening to me, but I get the feeling that this war is going to bring out my worst._

I closed General Harkin's journal and placed it back into my MS so that I could rub my face. If there was one thing he was right about so far, it's that war would bring out the worst of us. I finished off my sandwich and water before I suddenly felt my wife's hands on my shoulders. I looked up and my wife gently smiled as she hovered over me.

"So how much have you read of his journal?" she asked.

"I've only read a few entries. I feel like it's going to become another crutch until this war is over," I replied.

"Hopefully it won't be more useful than me."

"That's impossible," I smiled and my wife giggled.

"Hey, I'm sorry about punching you earlier."

"I'm over it. Besides, how exactly could I retaliate without you getting mad?"

"You could've started another prank war," she smiled.

"Yeah, but I don't think the rest of the squadron would've taken us seriously if we did," I shrugged. "Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if Commander Pollini has spread rumors of our antics."

"What's the worst they could do? Disobey our orders because we have an odd sense of humor?"

"They probably wouldn't take us as seriously, so, yeah, maybe." My wife gave me a slightly annoyed look before she walked around sat down next to me. She rested her head on my shoulder and I buried my nose in her hair. If we continued with our usual antics, the Emmerians wouldn't take us seriously. They'd think that we didn't care about their stake in this war. "I think we should cool it with our kind of fun," I said softly.

"You can't be serious!" my wife exclaimed quietly. "We'll turn into the generic couple that'll get divorced after three years of marriage! It's the fad of our generation!"

"Relax, we can still have fun, but we just have to include the others."

"What did you have in mind?" she asked to which I grinned.


	6. Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

**Chapter 5 – Wolf in Sheep's Clothing**

 **Wednesday, September 23, 2015 0654hrs, Vitoze, Emmeria**

I woke up to the smell of salty meat sizzling on the stove as well as the sight of my favorite flowers sitting on the night stand. My husband wasn't in bed next to me and I quickly put my robe on so that I could see what was going on in the kitchen. When I got there, I saw my husband cooking what looked like bacon, but the smell was different. The only thing that didn't smell off was the smell of scrambled eggs. What bothered me about this was that he wasn't alone. There were four other people in the living room and the patch on their arms showed that they were members of the Emmerian elite Special Forces group called The Cuttlefish. They were experts in the fields of direct action, sabotage, counter-terrorism, hostage rescue, unconventional warfare, and recon. Out of all the Special Forces units in the world, they were never out of my top five. What they were doing here was beyond me. They were all smiling and chatting with each other. That was when my husband noticed me.

"Well if it isn't my beautiful wife. Good morning," he said with a smile.

"What's going on?" I asked as I pulled my robe tighter to cover myself up.

"I had Lt. Commander Goda and his team to do me a favor so that I could prepare you a birthday breakfast. Since the Emmerian supply lines are nearly cut off, I wasn't able to get you any real food. So I had to improvise."

"Colonel Driver noticed that there's plenty of game around here and we thought we could use a hunt to keep our skills sharp with a couple of catches every so often. We figured that we could give you two some as long as we were let in on whatever he's cooking," said the Lt. Commander.

My husband gave me a look of uncertainty and shrugged like he didn't have a choice. As much as I wanted actual meat instead of the processed junk they served in the mess hall, I wanted to tell the Cuttlefishes to go and pound sand. But the fact that they were the ones who brought everyone some real meat, I guess we owed them in some way. God only knows how much everyone else would've appreciated it. Anyways, my husband continued cooking until he finally served us and I was is food heaven for a solid minute because I ended up scarfing down my food like a starving child. The others didn't pay me much mind because they pretty much did the same thing. Eating a meal like this for the first time since we left Gracemeria was the greatest thing I could've asked for. That, a back rub, and a long hot bubble bath would've been great, but we only had half an hour before our rotation began for sitting alert.

As much as I wanted both of those things, I wasn't going to get them. We all left the cottage and the Cuttlefish unit went towards their post while my husband and I headed towards the hangar. Marcus and Chase were already there talking with each other. We happened to walk in on them discussing some of the funny things that happened throughout their careers.

"The flight lead wasn't too happy with it and he had me running all day," chuckled Marcus and Chase laughed. "Hey, Colonel, how's it going?"

"You know if I was back in Osea, I'd be putting you on blast for greeting me like that," my husband told him in a half joking manner.

"Colonel, I think you're starting to let your power go to your head," said Chase.

"Oh trust me, he has yet to ever do that," I told them.

"The only reason you all think I'm never joking is because of the amount of training I've put everyone through. You'll know when I'm made when the word 'fuck' comes out of my mouth," said my husband.

"Did you lead training operations before you arrived at Gracemeria?" asked Marcus.

"I supervised a training operation once, but I was pulled after I got multiple complaints from the unit about how 'insensitive' I was."

"I thought DIs (Drill Instructors) were supposed to be tough," said Chase.

"OMDF (Osean Maritime Defense Force) DIs are, but not for the Air or Ground Defense Force. What's more is that I was never a DI."

"Oh, so what did you do?"

"I love this story," I muttered.

"We were conducting joint task force training and the Airborne Infantry and Pararescue kept screwing up their rendezvous maneuvers because the platoon leaders couldn't read a damn map. As punishment, I put the officers through some rough IT (Incentive Training). I pointed to them and told them to strip (remove all combat gear or take off one's cammie blouse) and one of the Lance Corporals raised their hands to ask a question. I wasn't in the mood for it and I said 'Good, we have a volunteer. Strip, bitch!' and I got reported for name calling."

We all got a laugh out of my husband's story and we continued to chat until one of the Emmerian Generals caught us. He began yelling at us when he saw that we weren't in our planes due to us being on high alert. My question was why he was here in the first place, but that didn't stop us from getting changed into our flight gear and climbing into the cockpit of our planes. Since Rico was still working on Garuda 2's F-15, Marcus was stuck with his F-16 for now, but Chase stuck by him and sat on the wing so they could talk while we all waited.

Every pilot who was sitting alert had their own way of passing the time. One of them had a harmonica, a couple would browse their phones, some would read, and others would sleep. Me, I just happened to pack a guitar into my MS before we left Gracemeria and I didn't tell my husband about it because I knew he'd have a cow. Seeing me pull it out didn't stop him from giving me a dirty look. I knew it was out of jealousy because I knew that I probably would've had a cow if I found out if he packed something like that into his MS. This was one of the reasons I loved being a woman because I was 'always right'.

I sat in my ejection seat with my feet elevated on the edge of the cockpit while I strummed one of Yue Gogulski's songs. She was a famous musician known throughout the world before she 'mysteriously' disappeared a few years ago. Anyways, while I strummed my guitar, my husband was humming the tune while he read General Harkin's journal. As much as I wanted to know what was written in there, I knew that it was none of my business, so I just kept to myself.

"Hey, Colonel Driver, what are you reading?" asked Marcus over his radio.

I thought he was about to chew Marcus out, but it surprised me when he put on his headset and answered him. "My old CO's journal," he responded.

"Did you steal it from him or something?" asked Chase.

"Nah, he left it to his son in his will after he died. My boss thought I should've had it instead."

"I'm surprised that she even gave it to you despite how much she hates us," I said.

"Jeez, I thought you were your own man with your rank," said Marcus.

"Nope, my boss is a civilian and she's a pain in the ass half the time," said my husband.

"Is she that strict on regs?" asked Chase.

"She micromanages our operations and reprimands us personally for screwing up," said my husband.

"No she doesn't. You just like going your own way most of the time," I protested.

"Because she thinks she knows how to do my job."

"I swear, you two seem more complicated than the average couple," said Marcus.

"What qualifies as 'average', Lampert?" I asked.

"Well, I've never met a couple that was so gung-ho about their military careers."

"I bet you and your wife have some sort of quark that we don't know about," I told him to which he clammed up. "Ah, so I'm right."

"Now I'm curious. Come on, dude, spill it," urged my husband, but the sound of Marcus's radio cutting off was enough for us to get the hint.

We continued waiting for the next couple of hours and I was getting bored. I must've been annoying my husband with my grunts of frustration because I kept hearing him sighing in response. He kept reading General Harkin's journal and his facial expressions told me that he was discovering something disturbing about his former mentor.

"Is everything alright?" I asked him.

"I knew Harkin had a lot of issues," he replied. "I knew he had a split personality disorder, but I didn't know that this is what caused it."

"I remember the Director telling me something like that, but I thought she was joking," I said.

"Yeah, well, listen to this," my husband said and he began reading the General's journal to me.

 _Thursday, April 20, 1995 1040hrs Valais Air Base, Ustio_

 _Over the past week, there's been this feeling that I'm being watched closely by someone, or something. Ever since we connected the Osean supply routes, there's been this nagging feeling that I wasn't acting on my own accord in some way. The feeling of being watched compounded on top of that made me very anxious._

* * *

I was eating my breakfast in the mess hall with Pixy and we were getting a lot of looks from everyone. Scuttlebutt said that Pixy never really got close to anyone and usually hung out by himself most of the time. Now that he was sitting right across from me while we ate the crap that this base called 'breakfast', more negative attention was being thrown my way. Ever since we got back from our last mission, Pixy started to warm up to me. I knew it wasn't because he wanted to be my friend though. I had shot down another couple of Belkan Aces, something that he hasn't been able to do, and I could tell that he wanted to pick my brain on how I learned to fly.

"You've been flying in combat longer than I have. How is it that you can't keep up with me?" I asked him.

"Hey, just because I haven't got an ace under my belt doesn't mean that I can't outfly you," he said.

"Yeah right, I haven't been able to really let loose yet."

"Am I supposed to be intimidated?"

"Just something to keep you and the others on the edge of your seat," I said smugly and Pixy just scoffed.

"I still lead everyone on this base when it comes to kills. There's no way in hell you'll be able to catch up," he replied in a similar manner.

We continued to eat for a few more minutes until we were both called to the briefing room. We finished up our meals and ran towards the briefing room where the base commander gave us the lowdown on our next operation. Apparently, the dumbasses up the chain of command thought that an emergency recon mission over a contested plot of land was the best use of my skill. The Area we were headed to was designated as B7R, the Round Table. We were authorized to shoot down any enemies we saw, but I felt like this had to be some kind of joke. We hadn't heard anything from the allied frontlines, and I assumed that we'd be sent to support some kind of allied operation instead of conducting recon over some strip of land that had little to no tactical advantage from what I could see. It had a large amount of natural resources under the land, but it wasn't like anybody could get to them despite everyone fighting over the area.

I didn't let this bother me for too long because Pixy was telling me that there were usually enemy fighters conducting patrols over the area since it was under Belkan control. What's more, we were the only two going to be sent over the area and no one had any idea how many fighters we'd encounter. But after the conversation I had with Pixy over breakfast, I welcomed the challenge and so did he. We eagerly walked towards the hangar and got in our planes. Settle gave us four sidewinders and four AMRAAMs for this mission, but I wasn't complaining. Once we were set, we taxied onto the runway and took off towards our AO.

"So how many enemies do you think there are?" I asked.

"There can't be more than ten," Pixy replied.

"Ha, knowing my luck, there'll be more than fifteen. Maybe there'll be a few more aces too."

"You almost sound happy about that."

"Well, if it's too much for you to handle…"

"You really think you can goad me into backing out of a mission like this?" asked Pixy.

"Nobody's got a gun pointed at your head," I told him and he scoffed. "But seeing as how your paycheck is on the line, I don't think you really have a choice."

"I wasn't planning on letting you have all the fun."

I chuckled at Pixy's response and we continued to fly towards our AO. When we got there, I felt a huge amount of disappointment sweep over me. After all the stories I've heard about this place from everyone earlier this morning, I was expecting this place to look like a forest or mountainous area. Then again, why would it? This place didn't look like much, but pilots from numerous countries have fought and died here to gain air superiority over this place. If anyone asked me, I thought this place was perfect for people with a death wish… and I'd be happy to oblige them.

"Galm Team, this is Eagle Eye. Penetrate B7R and get a feel for the surroundings."

"Galm 1, roger," I acknowledged.

"Galm 2, roger," said Pixy. "This kind of job is what we're all about."

We continued to fly into the area and Eagle Eye began to report enemy aircraft in our area. There were eight enemy IFF signatures on my radar and we were the only two allies in the area. Already, I didn't like the odds about us getting out of here alive. The only thing that gave me any glimmer of hope was the fact that the enemy fighters were totally disorganized. Some of them were flying single ship while others were flying in two-man elements. Depending on how we played this, we could down all enemy planes without getting swarmed. That was until I noticed several of them headed our way.

"It seems they're onto us," said Pixy.

I was beginning to feel myself panic as these guys began to merge with us and I was about to tell Eagle Eye that everyone who authorized this mission could 'suck it', but then I began to hear this voice in my head.

 _After all that bravado you had this morning, you're just going to bitch out? Jesus, Harkin, you're more useless than I thought. I guess the only thing you'll ever be great at is plowing women and ignoring responsibility._

I felt myself becoming disoriented for some reason. It felt like I was being pulled back into darkness, like I was losing control of my own body. I was still fully aware of everything that was going on around me, but I couldn't do anything. There was an enemy fighter coming at us from head on and I tried pulling back on the stick so that I could try and climb above him, but my arm wouldn't move.

"Galm Team, engage," ordered Eagle Eye.

"We WILL survive, Galm 1," said Pixy.

"I know we will," I felt myself say. "Pixy, maintain your course. I got something for this guy."

I pulled into a climb, but I had no idea why I was doing it. If anything, I was trying to move my hands any way I could, just so that I knew I had some kind of control over myself, but I couldn't. I now noticed that the oncoming enemy was trying to break away from us by peeling away to the left, but I nosed over into a dive to intercept him and shot him down with my gun. Once he was down, I pulled into another climb so that we could head towards the next group of enemy planes. There were three of them this time and I told Pixy that he was weapons free and he immediately launched his AMRAAMs towards the fighters. They all scattered and I gunned my engines so that I could go after the closest fighter. The Belkan was at the same altitude as I was and broke off towards my left to avoid Pixy's missile. What he didn't realize was that he was going to fly right in front of me. A stream from my 20mm was enough to send him down in flames. Pixy sent one of his sidewinders into the second plane before he raced to get the last enemy. I had the same mentality and dove after the Belkan. He was two thousand feet below me as well as Pixy. They were both headed towards each other and I was trailing Pixy from his eight o' clock high. Pixy fired his gun at the enemy plane and the Belkan rolled under his stream and pulled a left chandelle to try and get on Pixy's tail. Pixy tried matching his maneuver, but the Belkan was going to gain the upper hand. They were both in an inverted spiral and I moved in to make the intercept. Pixy was about to get himself shot up, but I managed to tear off the Belkan's wing with my gun when he showed his belly towards me when I dove on him.

Pixy continued to climb until he fell into formation off my left wing when I leveled out. We continued to head deeper into the airspace until we came across the next pair of enemy fighters. They broke off in different directions and I was flying head on towards one of them. Pixy's target broke towards our left into a dive with him in tow and my target broke off his engagement with me to help his ally. He was in a shallow dive and I sped up to catch him just as he began to unload his gun towards Pixy. Pixy avoided the stream and I couldn't get a lock on the Belkan without putting Pixy at risk, but I did it anyways. I was trying my hardest to disengage, but my body wouldn't let me. I was fighting to keep myself from launching a missile, but my fear soon ended when I saw the Belkan pull into a climb before he began turning to the right. I wasn't able to pull enough lead on the guy and I held my fire until I saw what he was going to do next. When he reached the top of his climb, he began to pull into a loop. It was the last thing he did before my gun ripped him to shreds. As I was coming out of the loop, I looked towards the ground just in time to see Pixy's target crash. There were only three enemies left and we turned to engage the first pair.

Pixy was too eager to get his kills which made it easier for me to steal them out from under him. He sped towards them and launched his remaining AMRAAM and one of his sidewinders in an attempt to down them quickly, but they broke off and lost a significant amount of speed in the process. This allowed me to send a couple AMRAAMs their way without having to worry about them missing. The last of the enemy planes had been downed and I rolled into position off Pixy's right wing. He was glaring at me like he was annoyed and I felt myself grinning at him. Even after I had shot down those enemy fighters, I still didn't have control over anything.

"Galm Team, penetrate B7R airspace," said Eagle Eye.

"So those mountains in front of us make up the round table," said Pixy as we continued flying into enemy territory. "I've heard my share of stories about it."

"Then I aim to become a legend here," I grinned menacingly.

"Warning, radar shows additional craft approaching Area B7R at high speed," warned Eagle Eye.

"Galm 2 to Galm 1, enemy reinforcements. Probably the main force," said Pixy.

My radar was picking up four enemy planes and I switched to the open channel to get an idea of who was coming in. They were speaking German and I was only able to make out their squadron name, 'Rot'. A few more seconds later, and I was able to see that these guys were flying in tight formation. The other aces flew single ship, but these guys were flying in a squadron. This was a dead giveaway that they knew how to fly like a team. If anything, this fight was going to be the most intense battle so far.

"Galm Team, we cannot authorize a retreat. Intercept them," ordered Eagle Eye.

"I figured you'd say that. This is going to cost you extra," said Pixy.

"He might as well pay me your share, seeing as how you've never downed an ace before," I said.

"This is the Round Table. Dead men's words hold no meaning."

I shrugged at Pixy's comment like I didn't care, but in fact, I was terrified. It was just the two of us and there were no signs of allied reinforcements headed our way. The odds of us getting out of here were slim and I didn't think that we'd make it, even if I did have control over my actions. We continued speeding towards the enemy formation. It wasn't long until my missile warning began to blare and we both broke off in different directions.

"They're flying Typhoons. Don't underestimate these guys," warned Pixy.

I looked towards the enemy formation and saw that they broke off in pairs. Compared to my F-15, the enemy Typhoons had almost every advantage except for speed. It could out climb and out turn my Eagle. What's more is that I had no idea how these pilots' style differed from the other Belkan pilots I've fought. To make matters even worse, Pixy broke off from my wing and headed towards one of the enemy elements. The second element turned to come after me and I pulled an Immelmann turn to get away from them. It wasn't long before I realized that I was headed away from Pixy and I still couldn't move my hands in order to turn back towards him. This was going to lower our chances of survival, but there was nothing that I could do. My radar was telling me that I was pulling away from the enemy planes, but my missile warning suddenly went off.

"Cipher, they're known for their long-range attacks. Be careful," advised Pixy.

I ran through this scenario in my head and I knew how this was going to play out. I would turn into the missile so that I could break away from it once it was close enough. Doing this would allow the enemy fighters to close in and engage me in two on one combat. The best way for them to down me would be for one of them to engage me up close while the other stood off at a distance and fired missiles at me once I lost my energy advantage trying to dog fight the first guy.

I looked over my left shoulder and saw one of the Typhoons trailing me in lead pursuit while I was in a tight left bank. He was already firing his gun and I immediately pulled away into a diving right turn. The other Typhoon launched another one of his missile at me from my two o'clock. I continued my descending spiral and pulled up at the last possible moment once the missile was at my nine o' clock. The missile missed and I gunned my engines to gain some more altitude, but the first Typhoon had circled back around and tried to come beneath me from head on. I peeled away to the left and dove for speed to try and get away. It wasn't long before another long range missile began speeding towards me that I was forced to break off and evade the second Typhoon again.

I had these pilots' tactics down and it was easy for me to bleed them dry of their primary weapons. The Typhoon who kept firing at me from long range ran out of missiles and went to support his two other allies while the remaining Belkan stayed to try and fight me. His tactic would be to force me to fight him by going after Pixy as well if I ran for too long, but I knew that this was going to be a difficult fight on its own. The Belkan was trailing me from about a mile away and I rolled over into a split S to go after him. However, he caught up to me sooner than I expected and I broke off to the left while he tried diving on me from my twelve o' clock high. The Typhoon over shot and I pulled into a right chandelle and went into a diving right turn to try and latch onto his tail, but he did the same thing. I was the first one to get my sights on him, but he broke off to my left and tried diving away from me. The Typhoon then pulled into a diving right turn when I finally latched back onto his six and I followed him into a vertical loop where I was able to get him in my gun sight again, but I wasn't able to get a shot off before he continued the loop and dove out of my line of fire.

The Typhoon began a diving left turn and went into another chandelle before he reversed his turn and tried to dive away again, but he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He dove directly in front of me and my bullets had scored a direct hit on the Typhoon's cockpit. There was no way the pilot survived and I turned to head back towards Pixy. He was mixing it up pretty well considering that he was fighting three on one. I regained some altitude when I saw how close to the ground they were and I started by diving on them. They all must've been out of missiles because they were fighting pretty close to each other. That didn't stop them from making passes on Pixy with their guns, but it was only a matter of time before they got him.

Pixy saw an opening to go after one of the enemy planes and he pounced. One of the other Typhoons saw this and turned to go after him. They all passed below me and I dove after the trailing enemy. When I was about to commit to my target, I saw the last Typhoon attempt to dive on Pixy. I fired a missile at my original target and saw that he broke off while Pixy avoided the last Typhoon's attack. The Typhoon overshot his mark and began to climb away from the fight. He did this while I was still in a dive and I was able to sheer off his wing with my gun. What I failed to realize was that Pixy wasn't able to shoot down his original target and now he was climbing up after me. I found this out when bullets ripped into my wing and one of my engines. I broke away to the right and looked back to see Pixy trying to hit him with his gun, but the Typhoon broke away and Pixy overshot again. The Typhoon dove away and tried hugging the ground, but it limited his options for trying to evade my attack. He pulled into a climbing right turn in an attempt to throw off my aim, but it only led to his demise. My bullets ripped into his engines and the pilot bailed out before his plane exploded.

The last Typhoon was above me and it tried diving on my tail while I turned to climb after him. We both fired our guns towards each other, but none of our shots connected. I tried turning after the guy, but I was going too slow to turn effectively and the Typhoon was already able to climb above me. He was about to give chase and I went into a descending left spiral to try and throw off his aim, but Pixy had rejoined the fight and tried to go head on with him as well. Neither of their shots connected and I turned to give chase. The Typhoon went into another diving left turn while I tried to cut inside his radius, but he rolled out of the way before I could line him up. I continued into a diving left turn, but the ground was quickly coming into view. My Eagle's wing nearly grazed the ground when I began pulling up and I careened my head around to find the Typhoon. He had looped over me and began trying to dive on my tail, but he overshot as I came to the top of my climb. I kicked the rudder over to the right so that my nose went straight down and I pulled up to go after the Typhoon who was now being chased by Pixy. The Typhoon saw him coming and broke left to come head on with me after Pixy overshot. However, the Typhoon failed to correct the drift of his plane and missed his opportunity to fire his gun, but I didn't. The Typhoon tried to break left again, but he ran into my stream of bullets. They had walked the length of his plane from the cockpit to the tail and he was trailing heavy fire when he rolled over and nosed into the ground.

"Enemy aircraft down," announced Eagle Eye.

I leveled out at seven thousand feet and began scanning the area for any more signs of enemy planes. Sweat began to trickle down my forehead and I wiped it away. This was when I realized that I now had full control over my body again. I began looking over myself in confusion and I had no idea what the hell happened. If anything, I was going to ask the medics back at base about it, but then I thought that they'd probably ground me if I said anything.

"All Belkan reinforcements confirmed down. Mission complete, return to base," ordered Eagle Eye. "Incoming message from Allied Forces Operations Command," he continued. "Allied naval force has begun its advance. We appreciate your work."

"Looks like we were just a couple of decoys," said Pixy as he fell into formation. I wasn't really paying attention to him because I was still wondering what happened to me. "Yo, Buddy, you still alive," he asked.

I snapped out of my stupor and looked back at him. I began to wonder if I should even tell Pixy about what happened, but something told me that he'd rat me out for downing that Belkan squadron by myself. In the end, I just decided to keep my mouth shut.

"I'm fine," I said as I turned to head back to Valais.

When we made it back to base, I ran past everyone and headed straight for my room. My hands were trembling like crazy and I kept hearing this voice inside of my head. Every time I kept trying to move one way, my body would try to fight it and move a different way. Eventually I began to hear a voice in my head and it wasn't a nice voice.

 _You're pathetic, Nate! You really thought that you couldn't handle all of those planes without more allies?! You're lucky that I was able to bail your sorry ass out of that pinch!_

"What's happening to me?" I groaned as I held my head in my hands.

 _What's happening is that I'm going to show you the right way to fight a war!_

The voice in my head was now clear as day and I was shocked that it even answered my rhetorical question. It kept droning on and on about how pathetic of a pilot I was and ridiculed my ability to fly effectively in combat. The voice eventually ripped into my personal life and I was beginning to think that I was possessed.

"Yo, buddy," called Pixy from outside my room as he knocked on the door. "Is everything okay in there?"

"Yeah, I just got a bad case of the runs," I groaned.

"Oh… Okay… um, the brass wants to debrief you. Better get to the crew room ASAP," he said and walked away.

My head slowly began to clear and my hands stopped trembling. I had full control over my body and I began looking around my room in the hopes that maybe I was dreaming, but this wasn't a dream. When I reached for the doorknob, I took a look at myself in the mirror. My reflection didn't look like me. It looked like some kind of psychotic serial killer. I locked eyes with myself and felt a heavy chill roll down my spine. The evil smile I had on my face was very unsettling to say the least.

 _I wouldn't consider myself the superstitious type, but at this point, I'm beginning to think that I'm possessed. It might not be the case, but it's not like I can talk to anyone about this. If anyone finds out about what's going on in my head, I could lose my wings for sure. I just have to keep this under wraps for as long as possible, or find a way of controlling it._

* * *

My husband closed his mentor's journal and looked at me with concern. I really didn't know what to think about what I just heard and it made me worry about how he'd react if he continued reading. There were things I knew about General Harkin that no one else knew about him, not even my husband. The only reason I didn't tell him about it was because I made a promise to the General.

"Do you think his split personality was what made him a great pilot?" I asked him in an attempt to change the subject.

"Based on what I've read so far, I think it is," he replied in a worried tone.

We continued waiting for our rotation to end and I spent most of our remaining time strumming my guitar again. My husband tried joining in by tapping a couple of pens on various things in the cockpit to give me a beat. I guess our time as members of a cover band in college kinda paid off at this moment. When that was no longer entertaining, I pulled out my rifle from my MS and began cleaning it. A couple of MPs quickly stopped us and we went back to being bored until our rotation ended. When it finally did, we went towards the mess hall with Marcus and Chase. They seemed to be getting along rather well, but Chase seemed like he was highly hesitant around me and my husband though. Maybe he thought that we'd abandon the Emmerians at some point, but no one other than the brass knew that we were here under orders. If they wanted to, they could pull us out. But even then, we wouldn't leave.

"Hey, where did you two live in Osea?" asked Marcus. His question caught me by surprise, but my husband answered him without hesitation.

"We lived in Macon. It was a pretty populated city that was known for beaches and night life. The house we lived on was on a pretty isolated hill that had a great view of everything," he said.

"How did it compare to Gracemeria?"

"The view was a lot nicer," my husband shrugged.

"You didn't think Gracemeria was beautiful?"

"Your words, not mine. But what I meant was that we had a great view of the city, the countryside, and the night sky."

"And Gracemeria doesn't have a view of the night sky?" asked Marcus.

"Not like Macon," I added to which he gave me a quizzical look.

"Tell you what, when the base begins its black out, we'll show you what we're talking about," said my husband.

We continued eating until it was time for us to clear the mess hall and head to our designated areas for the black out. All Emmerian bases and surrounding cities had to extinguish any and all forms of light in case the Estovakians decided to try bombing our positions at night. The pilots who were sitting alert had to sit in total darkness until they were given the order to scramble. Everyone else was to head towards their quarters for 'restricted liberty'. We had to keep the amount of light we could use to a minimum or risk exposing our exact location. It might've seemed like an unreasonable request, but past experience has shown me just how effective night vision technology can be.

When the blackout began, my husband and I met up with Marcus and Chase by one of the base's entrances on the south side of the base. We all had our NVGs (Night vision Goggles) on and set off out of the base towards a trail in the woods. As an extra measure of caution, we brought our weapons with us in the unlikely event that we ran into enemy infiltrators. The trail we were on led to the rather large hill and it took us about twenty minutes to reach it. Marcus and Chase were having trouble keeping up with us because they had never really been on a ruck before. I would've imagined that they'd both be used to this because of the escape and evasion training all pilots had to undergo, but I guess they weren't reevaluated on it throughout their time in the military. We continued the hike and they both began to complain about it.

"Explain to me again why you dragged us out here again?" groaned Marcus.

" _We_ didn't drag you anywhere," I told them.

"You two wanted to see a view that we enjoyed in Macon, so here we are," said my husband and we stopped on top of the hill.

Our NVGs became too bright and we took them off before we continued to walk. Marcus and Chase didn't notice it until we reached a clearing on the other side of the hill and sat on the ground. My husband fell back and sprawled out as wide as he could while I sat down next to him and wrapped my arms around my knees. Chase and Marcus had finally taken off their NVGs and began to look up towards the night sky. The looks on their faces were a dead giveaway that they were in awe of the view. With hardly any light pollution coming from the surrounding area due to the blackout, nearly all the stars were shining brightly in the night sky. The first time I saw a view like this was in Usea. The memories of that place weren't exactly pleasant, but this view was one of the only vivid memories I had of that place.

"The view wasn't as clear as it was back in Osea, but it was just as nice," I said.

"How did you two know about this?" asked Marcus.

"When you've been all over the world, you see things that some people never see in their lives."

"I would've thought that you'd have at least seen a shooting star or something," my husband said to which Marcus smiled.

"That's actually how I proposed to my wife. We had been together since our first year in high school and we stuck together through college," he began, but his voice trailed off.

"Go on," I urged and he put on a self-deprecating smile.

"We were walking on the beach while I was stationed in San Lorenzo and I saw a shooting star. My wife, Monica, told me to make a wish. When she asked me what I wished for, I told her that I wished that she'd marry me and she said she had wished for the same thing. Five months later, we sealed the deal. Ten months later, our daughter, Jessica, was born. She turns nine in two months…" he said and his voice began to trail off again.

"Well, there's a good view of the night sky and shooting stars should be plentiful tonight. If that wish came true, I'm sure your next one will too," said my husband in an attempt to cheer him up.

I hung my head at what he said and I almost wanted to scold him for saying something so careless, but Marcus smiled and sat down so that he could gaze at the stars again. We all sat there in silence and I eventually laid back to rest my head on my husband's stomach. Seeing the edge of the Space elevator along with the vast expanse of outer space really made me think about how insignificant we were. I was so deep in thought that the sudden feeling of a huge chocolate bar landing on my breasts startled me. I looked at my husband and he winked at me, knowing how much I wanted to kiss him right now.

Chocolate was my fifth favorite thing in the world, between teasing my husband with lingerie and the sense of schadenfreude when stupid people fail. Anyways, I felt very relaxed for the first time in a long while. Even with everything going on in the world right now, it didn't bother me for the moment. But as I lay there, I could sense a lot of tension coming from Marcus. I knew he missed his family and I had to be careful around him if I didn't want to trigger him.


	7. Déjà vu

**Chapter 6 – Déjà vu**

 **Monday, November 23, 2015 1221hrs, Vitoze, Emmeria**

Everyone on base had pretty much lost all hope of taking the fight to the Estovakians since we've been sitting on our asses for so long. No one knew what the Emmerian commanders were going to do because it had been over two months since we left Gracemeria. They told us that we were still consolidating the allied forces, but it was taking too long. Based on the reports that IOSS sent me and my wife, the Estovakians had occupied the entire continent of Anea. The thing that confused me the most were that they had large concentrations of troops spread out too far away from the front lines. The Estovakians still had a considerable number of personnel on the frontlines, but I began to wonder if they thought that an attack was coming from within their occupied territories. Once I thought about that possibility, I began to wonder if the Emmerian people were putting up some kind of resistance.

Today was like any other day since we got to Khesed. Everyone was hanging around the hangars in anticipation for an attack. Vitoze was the last major airfield we had so it made sense for us to be sitting alert. However, the air was heavy with dread. I was lying down on the flight line while the cool November breeze rolled through area. The rustling of the Siberian iris I had drying out on a few racks brought a smile to my face. A few minutes later, my wife came by with a buggy to drop off some more foliage before she left the base for the final pieces we needed.

"Sir, what are you doing out here?" I opened my eyes to see Marcus standing over me with a couple of sodas in his hands.

"I'm just doing some arts and crafts," I said as I flung myself onto my feet. "Where's Chase?"

"He's… trying to cool off," Marcus said nervously as he handed me a bottle.

"Problem, Lieutenant?" I asked.

"Sir, why is it that you don't seem as worried or anxious as the rest of us? We could be attacked at any moment, but you don't seem like you care.

I opened my bottle and took a quick drink as I thought about how to answer him. "Since you are now my wingman, there has to be a special bond between us. That bond begins with complete honesty," I told him. "The truth is I'm really not all that worried about what's to come in the future. If you lose the war, I'll get sent back to Osea and I'll finally be out of the military."

"So you really don't care what happens to us?"

"I'm not that big of an asshole, but I was never one to turn my back on people who needed my help. As of right now, there's nothing we can do and worrying about things that are out of our hands isn't going to make things go any faster. Is that what Chase wanted to know?" I asked and Marcus nervously nodded.

"He thinks that you're waiting for your orders back to Osea," he replied and I gave him an annoyed look.

"The only thing I'm waiting for is my wife to return from the store so that we can start weaving these hoops," I said and Marcus gave me another confused look. "When you get bored, you try to find anything to keep you occupied. Fortunately for me and my wife, we've been taught all sorts of trades to keep us busy. The plus side is that almost everything we learned was fun."

Marcus sat down next to me like he gave up trying to understand what I was trying to do and we continued to wait for my wife to return. She got back at around 1310hrs with more foliage and a large wooden tub we had made earlier in September. She also had a large bottle of bubble solution and glycerin as well, but we left it alone for the time being. Anyways, now that she was back, we began to weave the foliage we collected. Marcus continued to watch us work and I tried to get him to open up a little since we knew almost nothing about him after all this time. The only thing he told us was that he had a wife and daughter back in Gracemeria as if we didn't already know about them. Even though we didn't show it, my wife and I thought it was very awkward hanging around him as we were. Anyways, we didn't talk much after that moment, but we did sing some shanties we learned from our adventures together and Marcus continued to sit there in an attempt to get a read on us. The discomfort among us finally came to a head when Chase came storming over.

"What the hell are you two doing?" he demanded.

"Just passing the time," my wife shrugged.

"We're supposed to be sitting alert because we could be attacked at any moment, and you're making arts and crafts?!"

"What the hell have you been doing for the past two hours?" I asked.

"I've been doing what I've ordered to!" he shouted.

"So, you've been sitting on your ass, waiting for the order to launch, with nothing else to do?" I asked to which he paused. He continued to think about my question until I got up off the ground and grabbed the bottle of dish soap, corn syrup, and glycerin my wife had picked up so that I could pour them into the wooden tub. "You both make it seem like we're unaware that there's a war going on. We both understand the gravity of the situation, but there is absolutely nothing we can do about it right now. Instead of being negative about waiting, how about you relax a little and have some fun?"

"How can you think about having fun at a time like this?" asked Marcus.

"I bet you wished you weren't bored while we were sitting alert in Gracemeria," said my wife as she dipped a large hoop that we weaved into the tub.

"That was different! We didn't know that we'd be attacked!"

"It doesn't seem that much different to me. Be honest with me; you wish you had something to take your mind off of the stress right now. Am I right?" I asked and Chase and Marcus sighed because they knew I was right. "Chase, stand in the tub."

"Why?" he asked.

"Just do it."

Chase groaned before he took off his socks and boots and stepped in the tub. As soon as he was in, my wife and I grabbed the hoop and slowly lifted it over his head. A shimmering film of liquid enveloped him and he had this look of amazement on his face for the ten seconds he stood there before the bubble popped. Marcus quickly rose to his feet in awe and I tossed him one of the large bubble wands we made. Chase quickly stepped out of the tub so the four of us could dip our wands into the bubble solution. My wife was the first one to run off and leave a long trail of bubbles behind her. But just so that I wasn't outdone, I quickly took off after her leaving a similar trail as well. My wife began antagonizing me about the size of my bubbles and we both began to bicker about stupid stuff, but it was all in good fun. Marcus and Chase began to make bubbles of their own and it was pretty obvious that they were amused.

It wasn't long until some of the others came out from the hangar and asked what was going on. From there, shimmering bubbles filled the air all over the flight line. That wasn't the only thing we noticed. Everyone was laughing the longer they played around with the bubble solution. It was like they forgot that we were at war. My wife stood beside me and slapped my butt before she rested her head on my shoulder.

"Mission accomplished," she muttered deviously.

"Yeah, but from here on out, we're going to have to keep the creativity going in a way that keeps their minds off the war," I replied.

"That'll be easy. We have enough experience to keep them preoccupied for a couple of years."

"I know, but we can't keep them too distracted," I said grimly.

My wife knew what I meant and she gave a half-hearted smile when she thought about it even further. What we were doing right now was to combat the boredom of the base, but what they really needed was a moral boost if they were really going to be an effective fighting force in this war. However, the only way to boost their moral is for them to actually win a battle. As much as they'd need it, I was nervous about our next encounter with the Estovakians.

The Emmerians continued to use up all the bubble solution until it was all gone. After everything was over, they all went back into the hangar in higher spirits. Several of them asked my wife and me about the bubble formula while others wanted to know if we had any other clever ideas like this. We didn't get a chance to tell them because the base commander called us into his office to chew us out. If he were like the base commander in Gracemeria, he wouldn't have minded. Anyways, he yelled at us for pulling everyone off post and littering the flight line with a substance that can be detrimental to the base's equipment. On top of that, he was going to report the incident to our superiors in the hopes that I'd be reprimanded in some way. _Ugh, this guy reminds my asshole of a base commander during the Circum-Pacific War._ Anyways, after we were done, we went to the mess hall and met up with Marcus and Chase who were waiting in line for their meals.

"Where've you two been?" asked Marcus.

"We just got done taking the blame for today's entertainment," said my wife.

"I figured you'd get in trouble for that, but I guess you deserved it," said Chase.

"Jeez, I thought you would've lightened up a little," I muttered.

"Sorry, but you know that we don't have the luxury of being as carefree as you two."

"Trust me, we're not that carefree. We just know not to take everything so seriously," my wife said.

"Were you always like this?" asked Marcus.

"No, before I met my wife, it was all work and no play," I said.

"And before I met him, I was too carefree," said my wife.

"How did you two meet then?" asked Chase.

"We met at a comic convention where we began to argue over who would win in an all-out fight between Black Bat and Arachnid-Man," I said.

"Black Bat, obviously," my wife muttered.

"Woman, don't start with me!" I warned and she giggled. "Anyways, by my best estimates, Rico should be done with your plane."

My wife and I got our meal trays and made our way towards the hangar. Rico was working on Chase's F-15 while some of the other mechanics were working and others were just goofing off. We climbed on top of our F-15 and sat with our backs against the vertical stabilizers so that we could face each other as we ate. We were enjoying this time together and Rico came over to check on us. The first thing he saw was my wife throwing a piece of chicken at me so that I could catch it in my mouth.

"I swear, you two never change," he sighed and we both chuckled at his comment.

"Come on, Rico. It's us you're talking about," I said as I flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes towards my wife. She caught all of it with her mouth and stuck her tongue out at me. "Tsk, I thought I finally got you with that one."

"You're going to have to try harder than that," she said.

"Ok, seriously, I don't even want to know," said Rico. "Anyways, your wingman's plane is good to go. Let's just hope he flies better than you do."

"Yeah…I doubt that," I shrugged and I caught a face full of chicken potpie.

"He's not that bad of a pilot. He held his own pretty well in Gracemeria," said my wife.

"He worries me though," I said as I wiped the food off my face.

"Why's that?" asked Rico.

"His family's back in Gracemeria. When he's alone, I usually see him staring at a picture of his family that he keeps in his wallet. He's desperate to go back."

My wife caught my bread roll with her teeth and chewed it thoughtfully. She was well aware of what a person would do when they were desperate. If Marcus was willing to stop at nothing to get home, he could end up being a danger to himself and his allies. As my wingman, I had to keep a closer eye on him than the others of the squadron. Only time would tell if he actually became a liability.

 **Tuesday, November 24, 2015 0911hrs, Vitoze, Emmeria**

Today started out just like any other day up until around 0900hrs. We were called onto the flight line for an emergency assembly and I figured that it had something to do with the Emmerian military strategy, but then I figured that an Estovakian attack would've been more likely. I wasn't surprised when it turned out to be the latter and we were all given a brief sitrep before we were ordered to scramble all available fighters.

The Estovakians were going to try and level Campagna airport where most of our remaining allies were stationed in an attempt to snuff out any hope of an Emmerian counter attack. Their bombers were coming in from the North and their ETA was about fifteen minutes. I was fuming at the fact that we weren't warned about this attack sooner, but now wasn't the time to place blame on anyone. Everyone ran to their planes and lined up on the runway for their turn to take off. Marcus and I were the last ones to take off while everyone else sped towards the enemy formation.

"Those bombers have passed through the mountains and are still on course for Vitoze," warned Ghost Eye.

"They're here…," Marcus muttered.

"Let's not wait around for them to get here. Haul ass towards those bastards and don't let them through," I said and he acknowledged.

We both lifted off into the sky to join the others, but it came as a bit of a shock to see almost everyone engaged with enemy escort fighters. There was a whole gaggle of them coming towards us and I almost turned towards the Estovakians to engage them, but the Emmerians were fighting with a ferocity that I did not expect. They weren't flying like they were in Gracemeria. It was like they only wanted blood, but I didn't blame them.

"This territory is all we've got left. Garuda Team, it's in your hands. We've got to intercept those bombers," said Ghost Eye. "Stay within range of the radar facility. That should give you the upper hand in battle."

"Roger that," I replied and I activated my afterburners.

Marcus fell into formation on my left wing and we both sped through the fur ball as fast as we could. Most of the enemy fighters were too busy with our allies to pay us much attention, but some of them tried to give chase. My wife and Chase kept their missiles from finding us by launching our counter measures. We were ripping across the AO too fast for anyone to catch us, but I felt like we had been flying for too long without seeing our primary targets.

"Garuda Team, have you found the enemy bombers?" asked Avalanche.

"This is Totem, I'm no joy. I only see their escort," said Chase.

"This is Charm, I'm not seeing anything either."

 _Dammit, where are they?_ The longer we flew the more enemy fighters we saw along with fewer allied aircraft. Soon enough, the only thing we could see were allied IFF signatures of the ground radar stations as well as missile contrails from the allied SAM sites. This was when I began to notice large plumes of smoke billowing up from the ground off in the distance.

"Look at all that smoke," said Commander Pollini.

"They're under attack on the front line. Our air defense network won't last much longer," said Marcus.

He was right. The enemy bombers weren't headed straight for the airport. They were taking out the air defenses around the area first so that an even larger strike force could roll through the area with less resistance. The more radar networks they took out, the closer they'd get before we could intercept them. Luckily for us though, the first bomber appeared on my HUD. It was strange to see only one of them, but maybe the Estovakians knew something about bombing tactics that I didn't.

"Talisman, your orders?" asked Marcus as we took stock of our current situation.

"Stick to me as much as possible. If you get separated, keep your speed up at all times until you can regroup with me. Charm, Totem, I need you guys sharp if we're going to shoot these bombers down before they reach the base."

The first bomber we saw was towards our eleven o' clock high and he had numerous escort fighters with him. We pulled into a climbing left turn to so that we could pass under the bomber and pull into a wide Immelmann turn so that we could dive on our target. The escort fighters were trying to chase us, but we were going too fast. As soon as we reached the apex of our climb, we nosed over into a high speed dive on the bomber. I was aiming to go for a gun run it, but I was forced to break off my attack when I saw tracers flying towards us from the B-52's tail. We broke off our attack and pulled into a climbing right turn. Our sudden maneuver allowed the enemy fighters to draw closer and they now had a missile lock on us.

"Watch out, the enemy's got a lock on you!" warned Marcus.

"Shamrock, just stay on my six, Charm, track all those enemy fighters that are surrounding the bomber, and Totem, keep tracking that bomber," I ordered.

I hit the afterburners and led Marcus into a dive towards the ground so that we were headed away from Campagna. Chase had a lot to say on the matter, but all I could tell him to do was trust me as the Estovakians launched their missiles at us. Our counter measures took care of them for the time being, but we still had to complete our objective. When we were about five kilometers away from the bomber, we pulled into another Immelmann turn that registered over eleven Gs. I was surprised that Garuda 2 was able to withstand the maneuver, but it was only the beginning of testing their endurance. We blew past the fighters that were still trying to follow us and sped towards the bomber again. As soon as we were in range, my wife locked onto the escort fighters and I launched all of my available AMRAAMs at them while Garuda 2 fired a pair of theirs towards the bomber. None of them knew where the attack was coming from and all our targets were shot down.

"More enemy bombers detected on radar. It looks like another formation," announced Ghost Eye.

We acknowledged the update and changed our heading towards the next set of bombers. Estovakian escort fighters were still lingering all over the place, but none of them could catch us. Nevertheless, it was rather unsettling knowing that the Estovakians could spare all of these fighters for this one mission. If that wasn't discouraging enough, we also began to pick up enemy propaganda on our radios.

"Vitoze soldiers of Emmeria, resistance is futile. Throw down your weapons and surrender!" jeered the Estovakian broadcaster.

"More planes are showing up on radar. It's another bomber formation! Intercept," ordered Ghost Eye.

We headed for the closest bomber formation and already we were being intercepted by numerous F-4 Phantoms. Compared to the other fighters that the Estovakians were using today, the Phantoms were the most capable of catching us if they came from a dive. Unfortunately for us, that's exactly what they were doing. A formation of six F-4s came screaming out of the clouds and they were quickly closing the distance. We could've easily broken into a turn and forced them to overshoot, but we still had to deal with the bombers before they reached their target.

"Shamrock, we're going to break left. Once they overshoot continue on towards that bomber formation. I'll clear our six," I ordered.

We broke into the enemy formation and Marcus immediately reversed his direction so that he could head back towards the enemy bomber formation. The Phantoms pulled back into a climb to regain their altitude. Once they were at height, three of them dove after Garuda 2 and I hit the afterburners to give chase.

"Talisman, there's three more in case you forgot!" warned my wife.

I didn't bother answering her because we were almost within range of the other three Phantoms. My wife shifted her focus on the three enemies in front of us and she quickly acquired a lock on them while I kept my eye on the other three behind us. My missile warning began to go off and I broke right to avoid them which gave my attackers the perfect opportunity to fall into position on my tail.

I quickly cut the throttle and snapped the stick over to the left while I applied bottom rudder. My speed quickly dropped enough for me to roll into position behind my attackers and I now had all six F-4s in my sights. My wife quickly locked onto all of the enemy fighters and I launched all six of my AMRAAMs. None of them could maneuver out of the way and all six of them fell to the ground in flames.

"Emmerian Continental forces have succumbed to the might of our armies, and wisely admitted defeat," continued the Estovakian broadcaster.

 _Ugh, this guy is going to give me a headache._ I regrouped with Garuda 2 just in time to see two more bombers surrounded by more escort fighters. We were coming head on with everyone and they were all gunning for us while Marcus and I continued to fly towards the bombers. I told Garuda 2 to focus on the bombers and then peel away from the fur ball before any of them could land a hit. Marcus came at the bomber from twelve o' clock low. Doing this would provide him only a small window to attack, but it quickly turned out that I had nothing to worry about. Marcus fired his gun into the bomber's Bombay so that its ordinance detonated. He even rolled under the explosion to avoid the debris, but the shockwave rocked all of the planes within a quarter kilometer radius and it threw off my aim when I went for my target. I pulled up and began to climb away from the bomber. My wife told me that we were clear of enemies for the moment and looped back over into a dive so that I could dive back onto the remaining bomber's six. I eased off the throttle and pulled my air brake so that I could time my attack carefully. As soon as I was in position, I fired my gun into the right wing of the bomber. It came off at the wing root and the whole thing rolled ninety degrees to the right and plummeted towards the ground.

"Both bombers are down, let's find the next group," I said.

"Colonel, we need some help over here!" shouted Chase. I looked over towards my two o' clock and saw Garuda 2 weaving through the attacks of a couple of enemy fighters. Marcus was doing a great job of evading their attacks, but he wasn't going to last much longer without support. I was on my way to help him until my wife pointed out an enemy F-4 speeding towards Garuda 2 from our eleven o' clock. I called for Marcus to break left and he immediately did what I said and the F-4 over shot its mark and tried to dive away.

"Shamrock, I need you to hold out a little longer. I've got this guy," I said as I dove on the F-4.

I went into a steep left descending spiral until I was on the F-4's tail. He pulled back into a climb to regain some altitude for another run on Garuda 2. The F-4 was pulling too hard for a missile to track him, but I was able to get him in my gunsight. The pilot must've seen me jockeying for position because he rolled over to the right to try and dive away. My bullets made their way up the side of the fuselage and disappeared into the cockpit. I didn't have time to feel guilty about what I did because I still had to help Garuda 2. He was chasing another F-4 into a climb, but he didn't see another enemy climbing up after him. I dove after the trailing F-4 before he could open fire on my wingman, but the pilot broke off his attack. He pulled into a steeper climb so that I would overshoot, but I pulled a high G turn to climb after him. I could hear my wife grunting in an attempt to keep herself conscious, but I had to worry about the guy in front of me at the moment. The F-4 pulled into a tight loop and I easily kept pace with him. It wasn't until he hit the bottom of the loop that I was able to down the F-4 by shooting off his left wing.

"Totem, are you two alright?" I asked over the radio.

"We're good for now, but there are still too many enemies around here. Where the hell are the others!?" shouted Chase.

I took a gander at my surroundings and saw more enemy fighters closing in on the both of us. We were completely surrounded and I couldn't see any easy way out of this. I laid out a plan to Garuda 2 where we were going to pull into a wide spiraling climb to the left with both of our planes at the opposite sides of the spiral. As we climbed, we were going to launch missiles at any enemy fighters our WSOs (Weapon System Operators) locked onto until we were above all of them. Once we were, we were going to peel away and head towards the final group of bombers. We commenced with our plan and quickly realized that it wasn't going to work. Not because of our efforts, but because the rest of the Emmerian fighters had launched their AMRAAMs towards the Estovakians. It was an incredible sight to see all those missiles fly towards their targets and blow those planes out of the sky.

"How about that, Stovies, don't be thinkin' that you can get though here!" shouted Commander Pollini as he and the others came screaming in to join the fur ball.

"What the hell took you guys so long?" asked my wife.

"Sorry, bad traffic," said Lanner. "Get after those bombers, we'll cover you two."

Marcus maneuvered onto my left wing and we both flew as fast as we could towards the next bomber formation. The rest of the Emmerian pilots divided their squadrons up to coordinate an effective method of top cover for my team.

"Our merciful government in their benevolence has taken it upon themselves to restore order to your former capital, Gracemeria, and yet you seem intent on wasting away your final days playing futile war games!" boasted the enemy propaganda reporter.

"Dammit, what a bunch of lies!" shouted Marcus.

"Keep it together, Shamrock. I wouldn't call this battle a futile war game since we're curb-stomping the shit out of these bastards," said my wife.

"We can still fight, so don't give up," I added.

"More enemy bombers incoming… There's quite a few this time," warned Ghost Eye nervously.

"You were saying?" asked Chase sarcastically.

We continued to speed through the chaotic sky until we finally came upon the next formation of enemy bombers. Again, they had a large number of enemy escort fighters waiting and they didn't waste any time trying to overwhelm us. All of our allies were engaged with the Estovakian fighters while Marcus and I flew towards the bombers at top speed. A pair of Mirages dove after us and I ordered Marcus to peel away to the left while I climbed. Both of the Mirages went after my wingman and I looped back around so that I could target his attackers with my AMRAAMs. Marcus continued his left turn and his attackers couldn't tell where my attack was coming from and they couldn't get out of the way in time. Once Marcus was clear, he headed towards the closest bomber from its nine o'clock and fired a solid burst from his gun into the bomber's cockpit. The B-52 staggered to the right before it went into a full on dive. Marcus peeled away to cover me while I made a dive on the second bomber from his five o' clock. Its tail gunner was desperately trying to shoot me down, but I skillfully rolled through his hail of bullets before I was able to launch a pair of sidewinders at it. My missiles detonated near the fuel tanks and the bomber began trailing a lot of fire as it went down.

"5th enemy bomber is on its way down. At this rate, we'll get 'em all!" cheered Blizzard from Avalanche Squadron.

"Keep your head in the game! They still have plenty of escort fighters to deal with," I warned and everyone regrouped to head for the next wave of enemies.

We all rushed headlong into the enemy formation with guns blazing. A good number of allied planes scattered to engage the Estovakians while my team, Pollini, Avalanche, and Blizzard continued to push on towards the five remaining bombers. We all sped towards the bombers as fast as we could, but we were forced to pull out once another formation of Estovakian fighters arrived. They were diving on us quickly and we knew that we had to deal with these enemy fighters now or they'd kill us if we tried going for the bombers at this point.

I told Marcus to engage at will and he peeled off to deal with the first enemy F-4 he saw while I went after an enemy who was climbing up to meet me. We both came head on with each other and fired a quick burst from my gun towards him before I rolled away to the left and leveled out. I did see something break off of the Estovakian F-4, but I didn't know if I crippled him. The Estovakian didn't try to come after me again and I circled back around to try and help Blizzard who was tangled up with a Mirage 2000. Avalanche tried to provide some cover for his wingman, but the Mirage had turned after him and forced Avalanche to break off his attack by peeling away to his left. The Mirage broke away to the left as well and tried going into a split S to gain some speed that he would use to climb after my allies. His maneuver positioned me right on his tail and I quickly checked my surroundings before I pressed my attack. However, the Estovakian pilot saw me coming and pulled a wide barrel roll to throw off my aim before he went into a descending left spiral. It didn't do him much good because my wife was able to get a solid lock on him with a sidewinder and I took the shot.

As soon as I saw the Mirage explode, I went looking for another target of opportunity. It came in the form of one of the remaining five bombers towards my two o' clock low. It was almost directly below me and I nosed over into a dive after him. The angle I was diving prevented its tail gunner from getting a shot which was all I could ask for at the moment and I fired my gun into its inner most left engine. The bomber began trailing fire before its wing finally tore off and I climbed back up to prepare for another attack.

"Sixth enemy bomber is down. Was that the last of 'em?" asked Pollini.

"Negative, we've still got four more to deal with," I replied.

"Windhover, he's diving on you from your six!" warned my wife.

Commander Pollini's F-16 was towards my seven o' clock and an F-4 was diving on him. I pulled a sharp Immelmann turn to go after the enemy while Pollini snapped a roll to the right in order to evade the enemy attack, but the Estovakian was going too fast for Pollini to track him. The Estovakian began to pull into a climb towards Pollini and I gave my engines all the power I could in order to make the intercept. The F-4 had just launched another missile towards Pollini and he managed to evade the attack, but he was about to get peppered by the Estovakian's gun. Luckily for my ally, I had managed to make it in time and I unloaded a volley of cannon fire into the enemy plane's engines.

With Pollini now clear, he flew after the bombers and managed to bag one of them along with Marcus. There were only two bombers left, but there were still a large number of escort fighters in the air. Most of them were at a lower altitude and I dove on another Mirage who wasn't paying attention. He was flying straight and level which was what made him an easy kill. I pulled out of my dive and spotted another Mirage towards my eleven o' clock. He was moving too slowly for him to get out of the way, but that didn't stop him pulling into a right bank to try and foil my attack. It was an easy deflection shot and he went down just as easily as the last guy. With him out of the way, I pulled back up into a climb so that I could get after the last couple of bombers, but one of the Emmerian pilots called out for help.

I turned out to be Sky Kid and he was engaged with another Mirage. I turned to go after him while Sky Kid climbed into one of the clouds and pulled a high G turn to dive away with the Mirage still on his tail. The cloud made it difficult to line the enemy up in my gunsight and I had no choice but to go for a missile lock. I kept tracking the Mirage as he dove out of the cloud and peeled away into a tight left turn that I couldn't follow. Getting into a turn fight with that Mirage would've been the worst thing I could've done and I peeled away so that I could climb back to higher altitude, but the Mirage wasn't done with me. He tried climbing after me, but he didn't see my wingman coming to my aid. Marcus had no trouble engaging the Estovakian and shot it down.

Marcus quickly peeled away to shake off another enemy plane that latched onto his tail while I dove after the last two bombers. I was confident that Marcus would be able to get out of that mess in one piece so I wasn't too worried. Anyways, I had acquired a lock on both of the remaining bombers and fired two of my AMRAAMs at them, but they failed to track due to their ECM capabilities and I quickly fired a sidewinder at each of them to counter their defenses. One missile hit the right wing of the bomber to my left and the other missile hit the left wing of the bomber to my right. Their crippled wings couldn't generate enough lift and soon they began to drift towards each other until they both collided in a spectacular fashion.

"I'll confirm that!" cheered my wife.

"All enemy bombers have been eliminated. We somehow plugged every last one of 'em," announced Avalanche.

"Enemy bomber formation is confirmed down. I have to say you handled things well," said Ghost Eye.

"Heaping all that praise on us has got me a little too red in the face to go back home," joked Avalanche.

"Roger that, Avalanche. I'll just report you as gunned down and missing in action."

"That's pretty harsh, Ghost Eye," chuckled Marcus.

"All planes, it's time to get on home now. Try and make it back for supper," said Commander Pollini.

The remaining Estovakian planes began to retreat out of the area and all of the Emmerian pilots began to regroup into their formations. As they took a headcount, I realized that none of the Emmerian squadrons had suffered any casualties and all planes were accounted for. I felt my spirits rise a little knowing that these pilots were able to keep themselves alive during this mission, but I knew it wasn't always going to be like this.

My wife and I were the last ones to land and everybody was on the flight line cheering over today's victory. Everyone began depicting their encounters with the Estovakian fighters with their hands while others were hugging each other for having each other's backs. The ground crews were looking over the damage to the planes and I could tell that they weren't as thrilled as the pilots. The first person to run up to me and my wife was Rico. He quickly began to look over our plane until he finally looked at us.

"I was expecting at least one hole in her," he sighed.

"If you want, I can do it for you," I said as I tapped my pistol.

"I'm good, but we're going to be pretty busy for the next couple of day thanks to those guys," said Rico as he looked over at the other pilots.

I took another look at everyone. Despite my personal feelings of war, I felt good knowing that these people had a bit of motivation to continue on with the fight to reclaim their country. The longer I stared at the Emmerian pilots, the more they took notice. Soon they were all looking at me and my wife like they expected us to chew them out.

"What, did I lose an arm or something?" I asked.

"You're not going to lecture us on how we shouldn't be celebrating or anything like that?" asked Commander Pollini.

"Why would I? We all came back in one piece. If you all keep flying like that, you'll end up back in Gracemeria in no time," I said as I turned to walk away. No sooner did I turn to leave did Rico come running over towards our F-15.

"Please tell me that your wingman didn't get hit!" he exclaimed as he began inspecting his plane.

"We all know you were hoping for some sort of damage in her," said my wife.

"Not this time. I'm low on raw materials and supplies to keep some of these ships flying and I can't ask our boss for more without someone taking notice."

Rico was referring to how things might escalate out of control if IOSS got involved in the war if they began sending in more support to aid Emmeria. Since IOSS was a closely guarded secret, Estovakia would begin pointing fingers at the RSOG initiative. As a result, Yuktobania and Osea would most likely be dragged into this war. And if that happened, more countries might be dragged in to aid Estovakia or Emmeria. IOSS had to keep its involvement to a minimum for the sake of the world. But since both countries were affiliated with IOSS, mine and my wife's involvement wouldn't have mattered as long as we didn't violate the rules of engagement. With this new bit of information from Rico, we were going to have to be very careful when we went out on sortie. I just hoped that we did something soon.


	8. The Art of War

**Note: I'm going to deviate a lot from the voice communications on the AC6 missions because there's a lot going on with the operations. At the same time, I'm only going to cover the operations that best fit Sun Tzu's Art of War (I've read that book like 6 times), but I'll keep the overall story the same. And to keep it 100 with you, Chief, I really didn't like AC6 as much as 4, 5, Zero, Infinity (Even though I'm pretty sure the story could've been great), or 7. Assault Horizon was just dookie so don't expect a variation of that in the future. Another thing I wanted to tell you guys about is that starting on November 4, 2019; I will begin my journey as a recruit for the United States Marine Corp. The whole process of completing my training and getting settled in will probably take between six months to a year, so future chapters are going to be few and far between, (like they haven't been already (sarcasm)). I'm only going reserves so that I can finish my last two years of school so that I can become eligible for OCS and apply for flight training. That's the goal anyways. Anyways guys, I appreciate your support with my work on this site. Stay awesome people.**

 **Chapter 7 – The Art of War**

 **Thursday, November 25, 2015 0715hrs, Vitoze, Emmeria**

(Sang like a call and response running cadence)

 _Left right a layo!_

 _A lo right a layo!_

 _A lefty right layo!_

 _Out on the front lines late one night!_

 _The grunts got into a hell of a fight!_

 _They got on the hook and they called us in!_

 _Emmerian Air Force where've you been!_

 _Stovies up there, they're in that hill!_

 _The grunts can't get 'em but air support will!_

 _Immediate CAS on hill B3!_

 _Danger close, allies south of the trees!_

 _Take the SOFLAM in your hand!_

 _So my A-G-Ms know just where to land!_

 _If those Stovies still don't die!_

 _I got some J-DAMs on standby!_

 _The grunts, they called us on the hook!_

 _And said close air support, take a look!_

 _You got a job and you did it well!_

 _You blew the Stovies all to hell!_

Even though it wasn't mandatory, I led half of all available pilots on a three mile run around the base while we sang a cadence. It was only to motivate them for their next encounter with the enemy. However, after the Estovakian bombing raid failed on Tuesday, the Emmerians were highly motivated and were itching for another fight. My husband and I could see it in their eyes. The Emmerians were tired of sitting on their hands now and we had to find a way to get them hyped for their next fight. Morning PT was the best option that was available. When we got done with our run, we began to do full body exercises until I was summoned by one of the base's orderlies. He told me that all pilots and WSOs had to report to the briefing room ASAP. I dismissed everyone so that they could shit, shower, and shave before we headed to the briefing room. We were all there in less than fifteen minutes and I took a seat next to my husband, who had been impatiently waiting for me.

The briefing started as soon as everyone was accounted for and one of the Emmerian generals, who were in charge of all ground forces, stood up and began speaking. He congratulated us on stopping the bombing raid from the other day and began to give us our briefing. The Estovakians had invested a large number of air assets into the bombing raid and most of their air forces had been thrown into disarray. The brass decided to use this opportunity to launch a counter attack with all available forces participating. The AO was going to be Sipli Field, with a main focus on tank combat. The allied tank battalions would be divided into three groups, each supporting a different operation. Their overall goal was to cross a river and penetrate as deep as possible in order to regain control of Khesed while all allied aircraft were given the task of providing CAS. The only catch was that I was in charge of deciding which operations we were going to support. This sudden news came as quite the shock to a lot of people and I sensed the doubt that was coming from everybody in attendance. We had until tomorrow morning to get ready.

I got up from my seat and headed out of the briefing room to follow after my husband when he left, but he was immediately pulled aside by one of the Generals. I didn't know what they were talking about and I knew that I wasn't at liberty to join that conversation, so I just headed outside where I met up with Chase and Marcus.

"What did the General want with Talisman?" asked Chase.

"Hell if I know. Usually when the brass wants to talk to someone, no one else is supposed to know about it. Anyways, we've got a lot to do before tomorrow," I told them. "How are you guys feeling right now?"

"I'm just glad we're finally being deployed into battle. I'm tired of waiting and not doing anything to get back to Gracemeria," said Marcus.

"Well, I know you're happy to get moving, but I'm not so sure that everyone is motivated in the right way," added Chase.

"Most of the pilots here were stationed in Gracemeria. They've got enough motivation to get out there and fight," I told him.

"She's right, Totem. The sooner we can get back to Gracemeria, the better. I've got a score to settle with those Estovakian bastards and I've been itching for some payback," said Marcus as he cracked his knuckles.

"You say that like you're the only one, or did you forget about what they did to my pilot?" said Chase. "Apart from that, how do you feel about leading this operation?"

"That's… a really good question," I muttered.

Out of all the other officers capable of commanding troops into battle, I might not have been the best choice for leading this campaign and I was very uncertain about it. Why I was chosen was a mystery on its own. When we were dismissed, I spent all day staring at the maps and going over the logistics of all available allied assets. I was asking for weather reports, topographical maps, vehicle specification charts, supply information, and other information that seemed tedious, but it was all necessary if I was going to come up with a solid strategy. I kept pulling my hair and grunting in frustration the longer I kept staring at the information I requested. Even when I went to chow and met up with Marcus, Chase, and my husband, I still didn't know what I was going to do.

"I really don't get it," said Chase. "How the hell did you end up in charge of this operation if you think you're going to botch this?"

"I don't fucking know. It's not like I requested it," I snapped.

"Do you have any experience commanding troops into battle?" asked Marcus.

"I was top of my class in battle strategy in OCS (Officer Candidate School). Other than that, I don't have a lot of experience."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, are you still going to lead our military into battle?"

Normally, a field commander wouldn't be put on the front lines during battle. They would usually sit in a CIC (Combat Information Center) and relay orders to the junior officers who would then relay those orders to the frontline troops to be carried out. If anyone were to be in charge of this operation, it would've probably been Ghost Eye. But seeing as how the Brass appointed me as the field commander for this offensive, I was stuck with it.

"She'll be alright," said my husband. "If anyone knows how to think on their feet, it's Colonel Yamada."

"Is that the best argument you have? Seriously, I'd rather have one of my military's Generals leading us if she can't," argued Chase.

"Do any of the Emmerian Field commanders have any experience commanding troop within the past twenty years?"

"Well… maybe… I don't know. But why is Colonel Yamada commanding us?"

"I get the feeling that he's not comfortable with a woman in charge," my husband said to me in German.

"I'm beginning to sense that," I replied in the same language.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Marcus.

"Don't worry about it. You should hurry up and finish eating. The offensive begins early tomorrow," I told him.

We all continued to eat in silence, but we could still sense the uneasiness in the air. Even after we carried on with our day, every pilot gave me this uneasy look like they expected me to fail miserably. It wasn't until we got back to our cottage that my mind began to reflect on the only other time I commanded troops into battle. This was the last thing I wanted on my mind and it began eating away at me when I finally turned in for the night.

I began to have dreams about that day and it all seemed so vivid. The Waldreich Mountain range was a grim reminder of where I came from, but I had already come to terms with my past. Remnants of Belka's Ultra-Nationalists were harassing nearby villages by attacking from the mountains and I was stationed there with a RSOG detachment. Our AO was low in strategic value and no one expected an attack, but we were too relaxed and our CO was killed in the beginning stages of the attack. I was forced to take command as a result, but we suffered heavy casualties that day. On top of that, several of the casualties were close friends of mine and I've blamed myself for their deaths ever since.

I woke up in the dead of night to the sound of myself screaming and sweating like crazy. My husband quickly wrapped his arms around me and pressed himself into my back until I was able to calm down. This was a common occurrence for the both of us ever since I returned form that assignment and my husband began having these panic attacks ever since he returned from Estovakia last year. However, neither of us told each other the whole story about what happened to us because it was too painful to talk about. But we understood what the other was going through.

I continued to try and catch my breath while my husband continued to hold me tenderly. The warmth of his bare skin against mine was soothing to say the least, and it was enough to help me calm down. I placed my hand on my husband's and held it there so that he knew I needed him.

"I'm not sure that I can do this," I said softly.

"I don't see why not. You're more than capable of leading these people," he replied.

"No, I'm not! The last time I took command of a large force, most of them nearly died!" I protested. My husband tightened his grip around me because he wanted to know what happened during my mission in Belka, but he knew that I didn't want to talk about it.

"I know you don't feel great about taking command of this operation, but you can't let that stop you from doing your best. We've both experienced failure in the past, so I know how it feels to try again. You can't succeed without failing, sweetheart."

"You don't understand, it's my fault that Eric, Gabe, and Sabrina died," I wept and I felt my husband's grip loosen slightly.

"…is that the reason you wanted to retire?" he asked solemnly.

"…it's one of the reasons that I didn't want a promotion."

My husband let go of me and got off the bed while I continued to sit there, wallowing in my own sorrow. I thought that he was going to leave me there, but it shocked me when he came around to my side of the bed and sat on the edge. He cupped my cheek in his hand and lifted my head so that I could look at him. There was no animosity or distrust in his gaze, but only the warming smile that he's only ever shown me.

"I know you feel guilty about their deaths. Trust me; I know how much it hurts. We knew this job wouldn't be easy, and I'm not going to let you carry this burden alone. We're in this together, for better or worse. If you don't want to lead these people, I will. All you have to do is tell me."

I knew my husband would try to get me to relinquish command to him and I was positive that he knew that I'd refuse to do so. It wasn't because I thought he was incapable of commanding the Emmerians, it was because of my own stupid pride. I was given the responsibility by the Emmerian brass. And if they found out that I refused to do the job, there was no way they'd take me seriously afterwards. It was this pride that forced me to stop feeling sorry for myself and focus on what needed to be done. With a renewed resolve, I wiped the tears from my eyes and pulled myself together. My husband began grinning at me because he knew what I was thinking and I eventually returned his smile.

"Do you really think I'll be able to pull this off?" I asked to which he activated his MS and pulled out a familiar looking red book.

"No one else knows this book as well as you. I know you'll do great," he smiled and kissed me on my forehead.

 **Saturday, November 27, 2015 0600hrs Sipli Field, Emmeria**

All available planes at Campagna airfield were launched in support of the assault as well as all available ground forces. The last bit of support was a squadron of attack helicopters. Compared to our forces, we were completely outmatched in numbers and resources. If this operation was going to go smoothly, we'd have to do this as quickly as possible. My wife was feeling better after last night, but everyone in the squadron still had their doubts. She didn't let it bother her at this point. In fact, she had this smug look on her face like she was going to make everyone choke on their words. The only down side to this attitude of hers was that I had no idea what she was going to do. Nevertheless, I trusted her to make the best call for this offensive.

"Ghost Eye to all forces," hailed our AWACS. "We're about to engage enemy units on the other side of the river from multiple angles."

"This is Warlock Battalion; we'll be keeping the central unit occupied."

"Quox Battalion here; we're set up to hit all enemy units on the east side."

"Steel Gunners here; we got the west side covered."

"Garuda Team, provide cover for our troops on the ground and eliminate all Estovakian ground forces," ordered Ghost Eye. Choose any area you want to cover. Return to the FOB (Forward Operating Base) if you need supplies. It's at the south end of the airspace."

"Roger that," I replied. "Alright, people, let's get to work."

"They've got way more guys than us. Great confidence booster, huh?" muttered Shamrock. "Let's get on it Garuda 1."

"Let's just hope that our field commander knows what she's doing," muttered Totem.

"Did you know that 90% of our operational forces are out on the battlefield?" asked Avalanche.

"I love it. It's the bet of a lifetime," said Pollini.

"Alright Charm, where are we attacking first?" I asked.

"We're going to aid the Steel Gunners first. We have to take out that artillery so that they can advance," she replied.

I throttled up and began to head towards the western flank. My IFF was littered with enemy radar signatures in the air and on the ground. There weren't too many allies too be seen and all of our allied aircraft were too spread out. Windhover's group was supporting Warlock Battalion and the Avalanche group was supporting Quox Battalion. The only air support Steel Gunners had were helicopter gunship support provided by Yellow Jacket. Yellow Jacket could've done a lot of damage to the Estovakians, but they were holding of at a distance for some reason.

"Yellow Jacket, give me a sitrep," asked my wife.

"This is Yellow Jacket, the chopper unit. We've confirmed self-propelled artillery across the river."

"Bird Eater to Yellow Jacket, they've got too many anti-aircraft guns. We can't get in close enough."

"Garuda 2, you're responsible for providing top cover for us," said my wife. "Talisman, orbit the artillery base at five thousand feet so I can take out those AA emplacements with our AGMs. Yellow Jacket, move in to attack the enemy ground units once the AA is destroyed."

"This is Warlock Battalion; we're awaiting orders along with Quox Battalion."

"Warlock Battalion, hold position and dig in. If the enemy advances on you, retreat. Other than that, hold position until further notice. Quox Battalion, hold position and avoid engaging the enemy directly until CAS arrives. All allied aircraft fend off any enemy fighters that target our ground forces," my wife ordered.

I led Shamrock towards the west flank until we were over the AO. He broke off and began to intercept any enemy fighters that tried gunning for me as I orbited the enemy forces while my wife began to launch our AGMs on top of the AA guns. From what I could see, the Estovakians were putting up one hell of a fight. Their artillery bombardment around our allies was relentless and they weren't going to last much longer if we didn't take them out soon. As soon as my wife took out the last AA gun, she began to give her next set of orders.

"Yellow Jacket, begin your attack on those artillery emplacements. Talisman, we're going in too. Steel Gunners; begin your assault. Garuda 2, holler if you need anything and we'll take care of it," said my wife.

"Here we go, sweetheart," I grinned as I lowered my visor and dove on the Estovakian position.

The reason I loved flying with my wife, other than her being the love of my life, was because she was able to act twenty times more quickly and decisively than the average person. We were flying less than five hundred feet above the ground so that we could use our weapons to their fullest capacity. My wife was launching our AGMs as quickly as she could while I strafed any targets she couldn't hit. The explosive slugs Rico loaded into my gun made quick work of the LAVs and soft targets that were unfortunate enough to get in our war. In spite of this, seeing this kind of carnage again didn't make this easier. Nor was it something that I got used to.

I continued to weave through the treetops so that my wife could lock onto the enemy targets as best as she could while I continued to strafe the enemy ground units. Rolling and banking frantically while only two hundred feet above the ground was rather nerve wracking, even for me, but it didn't take long for us to destroy the Estovakian ground targets. Yellow Jacket proceeded to swoop in and pound the hell out of the remaining Estovakian resistance while the Steel Gunners moved in to capture the position.

"Garuda 1, there's a formation of enemy fighters going after our ground forces. I'm a little tied up myself at the moment," said Marcus.

The sky was littered with enemy fighters, but only a hand full of them had the capability to act as ground attackers. I singled out a Mirage 2000 that was about to fly above me from 12 o' clock high and I applied full throttle as I pulled up after him. The poor bastard didn't even know what hit him as I fired my gun into the belly of his plane and set him ablaze. It didn't take me long to find another Mirage tailing Marcus and I climbed up to meet him. We were at seven thousand feet when Marcus began to dive in an attempt to get away from the Estovakian. He was going to pass under my left wing and I pulled into a left spiral so that I could dive on the enemy plane. As soon as I got on his tail, I fired a burst from my gun at the Estovakian and he immediately broke to the right and began to climb. Once Marcus was clear, he broke off to the left and went after another enemy plane while I continued to chase my target. The Estovakian reversed his turn at the apex of his climb and led me into a descending left turn until we were going straight for the deck. My wife was trying to get a lock, but the ground clutter was getting in the way. The Estovakian pulled up and performed a wide, left barrel roll in order to bleed some speed and force me to overshoot, but I held my position behind him. He had come out of his maneuver too close to the ground and began to bank wildly in order to throw off my aim. It only delayed the inevitable and I shredded the enemy plane's wings, forcing it into the ground.

I pulled into a climbing left turn to get a better view of my six o' clock and it didn't take me long to see an enemy F-4 diving on me with a couple of allies in tow. He was closing fast and I had to spoil his shot somehow. At the top of my climb, I nosed back into a left turn. However, I saw that if I kept turning like this, the Estovakian would surely shoot me down. To throw off his aim even a little, I kicked the rudder over to the left, forcing the nose of my plane to point straight down. The sound of his bullets whizzing behind us made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, but it wasn't as bad as the feeling of almost slamming into the ground when I tried pulling out of the dive. I quickly pulled up as hard as I could and was about to turn after him, but I noticed another Mirage diving on another one of our allies and I quickly turned to climb after him. My ally broke right to avoid a stream of bullets from the Mirage. The Estovakian overshot when he tried to match the turn. My wife was able to get a missile lock and I fired a sidewinder, but the angle of deflection was too great and it missed. I continued to turn after the enemy plane and was about to pull lead on him when he suddenly rolled into a dive towards the deck. What surprised me was that he was inverted as he flew scant feet off the ground. He rolled to the left in preparation to break, but I saw his move coming and fired my gun into his plane until I saw them strike the cockpit.

"Talisman, he's on you! Turn hard," warned Marcus.

I looked up just in time to see the F-4 from before, diving on me from five o' clock high, and I broke right as hard as I could. Shamrock was already gunning for him, but it looked like the Estovakian was going to put his bullets into me. To counter this, I pulled up to gain some altitude and watched the enemy plane fly under me. I was about to turn after him and engage, but Shamrock sent a missile into him before I could do anything.

"We've taken control of the gun site. Thanks for the air support," said the Steel Gunner's Captain.

"Roger that, hold position until further notice," said my wife. "Quox Battalion, begin your advance. Avalanche Squadron, provide CAS for them until we get there."

"Ghost Eye to Garuda Team, listen up. Aircraft that have already completed their operation objective are being sent your way. Call them in when you need back up."

"This is Yellow Jacket, we need to bypass the central line of resistance's AA guns if we're gonna support Quox Battalion."

"Roger that," replied my wife.

"This is Quox, advancing to engage the enemy across the river. Do me a favor and take care of any little guys trying to get in our way."

Marcus formed up on my wing and we sped towards Quox Battalion. Compared to the other two fronts, this operation was way smaller in scale. Despite the size of the unit deployed on the eastern front, I really didn't see why we needed to support them. The most resistance was coming from the central line of resistance. Warlock Battalion was getting pounded, but they were dishing out as much as they were receiving. Despite what I thought about how my wife was conducting this operation, I trusted her completely.

We were around twelve thousand feet so that my wife could get a better view of the AO. Once she was satisfied she ordered me to assist Quox Battalion. The first thing I did was dive after an enemy fighter that was turning left off my nose. I rolled into a split S and dove on the Estovakian, but I was going too fast to line up an effective shot. I over shot my mark and ordered Shamrock to break off while I went into a zoom climb. The enemy plane tried to climb after me, but Shamrock quickly got behind him and downed him with a missile. With that out of the way, we both nosed over into another dive so that we could target the enemy planes that were harassing Quox Battalion. There were five enemy planes on the deck and I singled out one that had latched onto Avalanche's tail. Despite his low altitude, my wife managed to get a lock on him and I sent a missile sailing into the enemy plane.

With him out of the way, I pulled out of my dive and latched onto another enemy towards my ten o' clock. He was going after the ground forces and failed to check his tail. A solid burst from my gun set his engines on fire and the pilot bailed out before his plane crashed. None of my allies were harmed by the wreckage, but there were still three more enemy planes to deal with. I pulled into another climbing left turn and singled out a pair of enemies going after Quox. They were too focused on their targets as well and the trailing plane didn't see my missile coming towards him. When my wife confirmed the kill, Shamrock dove after one of the remaining two planes while I circled back to join him. However, the remaining planes began weaving through each other's flight paths to throw off our aim. Shamrock missed his shot and I tried to pounce on the same enemy only for me to miss as well. In order to avoid being an easy target I extended away from the enemy plane and Shamrock looped back around to go in for another shot. However, he missed again and extended away as well while I looped back around and dove on the Estovakian. I was coming in from his eight o' clock high and he was pulling an extremely tight turn that gave me a very narrow deflection shot. None the less, my bullets shattered the canopy and ripped into his engines, rendering the plane inoperable. The last Estovakian plane was trying to make another pass at Quox Battalion, but Shamrock quickly swooped in and tore him to shreds with his gun.

With all the enemy planes out of the way, we now had all time in the world to thin out the enemy ground forces. To make this opportunity even sweeter, Yellow Jacket had finally arrived on station. My wife ordered them to bombard the enemy positions on the right flank and they were happy to oblige. The sky was filled with rocket contrails and the ground erupted as a result. The Estovakian position was decimated and Quox Battalion began to advance even faster.

"This is Quox, we're about to mop up whatever little guys are left out here."

"Steel Gunners, divert a third of your forces towards the east. Quox Battalion, divert half of your forces towards the west. The rest of you, continue on towards the field HQ. Warlock Battalion, begin your advance on the enemy's central line of resistance. Avalanche and Yellow Jacket Squadron, you're to assault the enemy field HQ while Windhover's squadron supports Warlock's encirclement." said my wife.

I looked at my radar to see how our ground forces were moving. The Steel Gunners and Quox had out-flanked the Estovakian central line of resistance and completely encircled them, effectively cutting off any chance of them from retreating. This ensured that they wouldn't be able to support the Estovakian defense of their field HQ. The encircled enemies would have to fight their way out, but the disorganization of their forces meant that there was a high probability that they'd surrender if we took out their field HQ. If that was the case, then we had to deal with if quickly. Shamrock and I led the remaining allied aircraft into the fray and we fired all available missiles towards the enemy positions. Estovakian planes began to fall out of the sky left and right while their ground forces were scrambling for cover.

"Enemy forces have been dealt a heavy blow," announced Ghost Eye. "All planes, move into action against any forces still remaining."

"They're not going anywhere. I won't let them get away," said Shamrock, coldly.

I don't know why, but I became a little uneasy towards Shamrock when he said this. It was easy to deduce that he wanted to make the enemy pay for what they did, but I didn't know how far they'd go for their revenge. This was a scary thought because I knew first-hand how far someone would go for vengeance. The sight of the enemy forces on the ground didn't help ease my concern. All allied forces were bombarding the retreating Estovakians without mercy and it didn't take long for the remaining enemy forces to surrender.

"This area has been cleared of enemy forces. Mission complete, get back to base," said Ghost Eye.

"Looks like I won the bet," cheered Pollini.

 _What bet?_

"That's one step closer to Gracemeria," muttered Shamrock. "Garuda 1, I've got a hunch we'll be going home a lot sooner with you on board."

"You know, I think you might actually be right," said Chase. "That was some pretty impressive work you two did out there."

I sighed to myself, undid my oxygen mask, and lifted my visor. With today's victory, we helped bolster the moral of the Emmerians and it felt kinda good. However, my wife looked like she had something else on her mind. She was resting her head against the canopy while she gazed out towards the ground. If I had to guess what it was, I would've thought that she felt guilty about the huge loss of life this operation had.

When we made it back to base, Rico began to look over mine and Marcus's planes to make sure they weren't damaged. I rolled my eyes at him and brushed past him to talk to Marcus. He was smiling with Chase as they reviewed the day's encounter with the enemy. They were standing alone together on the flight line while everyone else was huddled up cheering over the allied victory.

"Hey, Totem, pay up! You lost, dude," yelled Pollini.

My wife perked her head up and watched as Chase ran down the flight line towards the other pilots. When he got there, he began to count out a stack of bills and split them between Avalanche and Pollini. Yellow Jacket and Sky Kid did the same thing and handed them a stack of bills as well before storming off towards the barracks. Pollini noticed that we were watching them and came jogging over as he counted out some of his money and pocketed the rest.

"I guess some of the guys owe you an apology. Nobody can really say shit to you now that you pulled off our first major victory," said Pollini as he tried to hand us the money. My wife just continued to glare at him and stormed off in disgust at what just happened. "Is something the matter?"

"Who all made the bet that my wife was going to fail?" I asked to which he froze. Pollini didn't know how to answer because he knew that he screwed up. "Pollini, I'm going to ask you one more time before things get ugly. Who made the bet and who took it?"

"… Only the squadron leaders made it. Me and Avalanche bet Totem, Sky Kid, and Yellow Jacket that Colonel Yamada would pull off a victory with this whole operation," he said hesitantly.

"Here's some advice to live by while I'm in command here, Commander. Don't treat this war like a game. If we fail, you're never going to see your family again. When it comes to the reality of this war, we take it very seriously. The least you can do is show us that you want to make it home," I told him.

Pollini lowered his head in guilt and apologized before I started to walk off. "Colonel Driver," he called out and I stopped to look at him. "Did something happen to Colonel Yamada in Belka?"

"…I don't know," I replied. I continued to head off to find my wife, but the sound of Marcus calling me caught my attention.

"Talisman, I saw what happened. Is everything okay?" he asked sincerely. I couldn't look him in the eye and I kept my back towards him as I sighed to myself while I rubbed the back of my neck.

"Marcus, do you think of me as a joke?" I asked and I could tell just by the feeling in the air that he was caught off guard by my question. "Do you think that my wife and I won't be able to get you guys back home to Gracemeria?"

There was a brief moment of silence before he finally said something. "To be completely honest, I really don't know how to think of you two. You're both like an enigma that I don't think anyone would be able to figure out. You both seem highly capable in your leadership and you seem very serious whenever we go off on sortie. But when you're not on mission, everyone says that you're too carefree."

"You didn't answer my question," I said as I turned to look at him. "Do you think we're incapable of getting you home?" I asked again and Marcus paused for a second time.

"I believe you'll get us there, sir. It's just we're all weary of how you're going to do it," he said.

I nodded at him and continued my pursuit of my wife. But by the time I got underway, there was no trace of her anywhere. The first place I checked was our cottage, but she wasn't there. I checked the trails around the base, the women's locker room, and on top of the hangars, but she was nowhere to be found. It wasn't until 2013hrs that I found her in the gym, punching the hell out of a sparring dummy. This was a sure sign that she was mad, but this was nowhere near her worst. Luckily, I knew just how to cheer her up.

* * *

I hated the Emmerians at this point in time. For them to treat my contribution to this war as a damn joke was just insulting. I knew how to order troops into battle and I knew the best way to minimize allied casualties. Even though I was good at this, I didn't want the responsibility because of what happened in the past. But my stupid husband had to stoke my pride and tricked me into taking on the responsibility. I was angry at everybody and I spent most of the day hiding in a tree until I felt calm enough to head to the gym and let loose on a punching dummy. Everyone who saw me hitting the thing couldn't tear their gaze away.

"Your form is sloppy," I heard my husband say. I ignored his comment and continued hitting the dummy as he leaned against the wall. "I can see your moves coming from a mile away," he commented again. "You'd be lucky to land a hit like that." My husband continued to critique movement until he finally set me over the edge. "Jeez, it's hard to imagine how you became an instructor moving like that."

I quickly turned towards him and tried to throw a punch at his face, but he quickly deflected my wrist and gently pushed me back to create some distance between us. He quickly got on guard and I moved in to throw more punches and kicks at him and he deflected or dodged them with great efficiency. It wasn't until I threw a right hay maker that he countered by grabbing my right wrist with his left hand, forcing it upward so that he could love tap me in my ribs. My husband then knelt down while he pulled my arm over my shoulder so that I was thrown to the mat and then released me so that he could get back on his feet. I quickly flung myself to mine and turn just in time to see him throw a punch at me that I countered by deflecting his arm away from my face and locking it across my chest so that I could slide and drop to his side, pulling him to the ground. We both flung ourselves to our feet, but I was quickly put back on the ground when my husband swept my legs out from under me.

Normally I would've tried to get back on my feet, but at this particular moment in time, I felt extremely foolish because I had never fallen for a move that I've successfully countered numerous times. What was even more irritating was that I began to realize that my husband was right when he told me how unfocused I was. He knelt down beside me and held out his hand for me to grab, but I wasn't in the mood to look at him because of reasons.

"Look, I know you're pissed. I am too," my husband began. "But if you lash out at these people in the wrong way, they're not going to listen to you in the future."

"I know that, but how am I supposed to act when these assholes treat me as a damn joke!" I argued.

"Look on the bright side."

"What bright side?"

"Everyone did follow your orders, so that does prompt some kind of reward, right?" said my husband.

I paused for a moment and thought about what he said. The whole operation would've failed if everyone hadn't done what I had asked. If none of the battalions had listened to my orders, we wouldn't have captured so many enemy prisoners or gotten hold of their supplies. The mess hall was preparing to make great use of those supplies for everyone starting tomorrow morning. If it weren't for the Emmerians' discipline, none of this would've been possible. I sighed to myself because I figured that I shouldn't get so worked up about all of this, but I was still pretty mad.

"They're not going to get away with that bet without some kind of punishment," I said.

"I figured you'd say that, which is why I managed to swipe some of the high quality rations the ground forces recovered. You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" my husband asked.

"Get out of my head!"


End file.
